The Secrets of the White Lady
by Countess of Cobert
Summary: CHAPTER 40 IS UP! Modern AU. Robert and Cora take their three daughters on a cruise, but is all as it seems or are the girls keeping secrets from them? And then there's the man Cora keeps seeing, does she recognise him or not, and if she does what does it mean? The past is full of memories, but are there some that have been buried and now threaten?
1. Chapter 1

AN: This story has a different layout than you might expect. Each chapter is comprised of three parts, two are in the present moment, on the cruise and later when they return home, the third (which will be in italics) is Robert or Cora remembering a moment in their past. The result is that two stories run parallel to each other. I hope you all enjoy it.

The only other note is that Sybil is six years younger than Edith rather then just the four in canon.

This is my first try of a modern story so I really hope you all enjoy it. Please REVIEW and leave your thoughts!

* * *

The room was as beautiful as the ship and the harbour in which it sat. She'd forgotten what it was like to walk down a pier and find the white lady waiting, the paintwork polished and her British flag flying. She'd let the memory drift because she hadn't cruised for some years. They'd been on family holidays, almost every year, but cruising was a thing of the past, from the years before Mary had been born. That had been twenty-one years ago.

The view from the balcony of their suite, which looked at this moment straight out to the endless Caribbean sea beyond, was better than she could have hoped. The sun was blaring, the heat marginally uncomfortable, but nothing she couldn't cope with, Robert would no doubt be another story. Interrrupting her thoughts is the sound of the door clicking open behind her and she turns away from the faceted sea to spy him slipping in, his hair still tousled from the flight and his summer shirt and trousers a sight she'd missed. He looked very fine in a shirt and tie, but well, she enjoyed him relaxed.

"I've got the safe key." He flicks the item into the air, deftly catching it, it seems she could never quite get away from cricket.

"I've left my jewellery on the bed." He ambles quickly to the bed and then proceeds to set the code upon the safe, emptying her purse of tickets and passports in the process. She'd emptied her own case and Robert's that had appeared at their door (the ship staff take the labelled luggage from the airport and crane it up onto the ship before delivering it to the correct cabin) and was planning a swim that afternoon. If only the last case would arrive.

She falls onto the settee as Robert, after a series of bleeps, announces that he has indeed got the safe sorted. She however, was suddenly preoccupied: little Sybil's missing case causing her brow to crumple.

"I'm surprised Sybil's case hasn't arrived, and we know it got to the airport here, we labelled it up. Do you think I should go and ask someone?"

"Cora," a boyish grin comes over his face, one she hadn't seen in some months. "Sybil's case is never going to appear, not at our cabin door anyway." She suddenly looks around, assessing the sofa she was sat on that she had assumed folded out into a bed. She slips off the soft fabric and manoeuvres herself passed the two plush plum chairs and table, that she had a feeling would have to moved if only to makes sure neither she nor Robert tripped over.

The bedroom was just as she remembered it, the plum colour from the living room on one wall, the head rest of the bed in a lilac shade and the odd abstract art pieces above the bed and on the wall behind her, the ensuite leading off to her right. But sure enough, there was definitely no bed beside the Kings sized bed she stood at the foot of. It had seemed very inviting before, the pillows a pearl white the duvet matching with the plum throw over it, it now seemed even more spacious and beckoning. The chuckle against her neck makes her jump a little, a blush quickly rising from the mix of her previous thoughts and his gentle breath.

"I persuaded Mary and Edith to share with her, so that you and I could have a room to ourselves. It was part of my surprise." The whole holiday had been a surprise, it turned out Robert was better at keeping secrets than she had once thought. Although, that worried her too, there was a new secretary of his that they had fallen out over and Cora worried if he could keep this holiday from her he could cover up some affair as well. It was ironic she realised that she had once been that secretary, the one everyone was watching, waiting for the first signs of Robert wooing her over. There hadn't been a wife then though, or three children.

She pushes the thoughts aside, or rather they are forced aside as Robert's hand slides to her hip, his lips tilted to her skin already. It had always been like this, he'd always been able to make her feel things she didn't think she could. He twirls her in his arms, his hands wrestling her summer dress over her head.

Her back sinks into the soft linen...

Her hands release the buttons...

She shivers as he fingers trail the inside of her thigh, his thumb pressing firmly through her silk panties...

His lips force her mouth open, his tongue searching fearlessly inside...

His touch was gentle, soft upon her breast but her mouth still falls from his, a gasp filling the sticky air...

His hands pull her damp panties away, his fingers finding the folds with a precision she'd forgotten, it had been too long...

It didn't take much, her back felt the waft of air over it as it rises from the linen, her cry fills the room, his swollen lips muffle it a second later...

His hair is soft, she weaves it over her fingers, her body sandwiching itself between him and the mattress...

Her leg finds his hip, slipping seamlessly around him, one hand dips lower, trying to find him-

"Robert...you should...I mean..." She finds his gaze knowing her cheeks are not just pink from exertion. "A condom?" He kisses her cheek gently, rolling carefully off of her.

"Of course, where did you put them?"

"Well, I...wait..." She feels a girlish stupidity overcome her, memories she'd tried to keep buried resurfacing: inky night, her own tears, the horrid man's uncaring expression. "I mean I thought Sybil was sharing with us so...did you?"

"No, I, sorry. You usually-" She can't help but find his embarrassment funny, she shuffles back to him.

"It doesn't matter. It's only once, we're old enough to take some chances. You can get some later, the shop on the ship will have some." Her lips find the crook of his neck and his murmur of her name spurs her on.

Her leg curls back to where it was his arousal presses firmly against her own, his hand clasping her knee against his thigh...

He rolls her slowly, until she locks her foot against his back...

His lips dip deliciously into her collarbone, her head rocking back, her nails scratching his shoulders...

She arches her back, feeling him press once more against the place she wanted him most...

She reaches her hand between them, the stickiness of his skin coating her finger as she pushes lower, shifting her weight, coaxing him...

He shifts her legs apart with his knee, his hand teasing at the folds she'd desperately been pressing against him...

His hands are quickly replaced by the more taunt sensation of his arousal...

Her eyes fly open, the sapphire blue of his own, so like the ocean just beyond their window, meeting hers...

She smiles at his sweaty forehead, tousled hair and swollen lips, she'd done that to him...

She feels her lids slam shut again as he pushes too slowly inside her, forcing out her moans...

She hammers her hips against his own, her body aching for the release that only he has ever given her...

He pushes her hips into the bed, adjusting his body over her, finding places she couldn't remember the last time he reached...

He comes first, the guttural groan against her neck...

The pinching of her skin between his teeth...

His hand massages gruffly at the underside of her breast...

It's the spread of him inside of her, the blending of their bodies that makes her bury her face in his shoulder, her own mouth closing over his skin...

She keeps her body pressed closely around him as her breathing slows. His lips grace her cheek shortly afterwards as she slowly disentangles himself from her form.

"Cora?"

"Yes darling."

"Something was bothering you, before I came and startled you. You were just staring at the bed. Are you alright?"

"Perfectly fine." She knew what he was referring to, it had been when she'd been thinking of his new secretary, Jane.

"I don't think you were. Your hands were knotted together." He was making it so difficult for her to not admit her thoughts, one hand was curling over her stomach, the other sweeping in her hair.

"I was thinking of Jane, you and-"

"Cora, she's gone. She's Bates' assistant now. I love you. Always you."

"But I'm not-"

"If you dare say 'young' after what you and I just did after a nine hour flight I might have to remind you again how good you were." She knows she blushes, the heat in her cheeks burning as much as her lower abdomen was a few moments before.

"Cora, I know I can never make the insecurities that man embedded in you totally go away. But, I dearly hope after twenty-five years of marriage and having known me for twenty-eight years you might, by now, trust me." It was so hard to understand herself sometimes, she loved him and most certainly trusted him but somehow it felt as though that man from before would never leave her.

"I do. I do. I just, the slightest thing makes me feel lacking, I suppose. Particularly in these kind of things." She gestures embarrassed at the pair of them. He knots his fingers through hers, rubbing them gently over her stomach.

"Cora, all those years ago, I would never have kept seeing you, taking you out if I hadn't thought that making you believe in yourself was worth it. I wouldn't have done it, if the moment you'd walked into that room for that interview I hadn't known you were someone I wanted in my life, to whatever degree. And I most certainly wouldn't have pursued being your boyfriend, after I knew your past, if I hadn't thought that maybe, just maybe, after I'd restored your confidence I'd still want you." She shyly smiles up at him her thoughts more relaxed, she'd been silly to worry. Robert was a very honour bound man both at work and at home. She'd known that for well over half her life.

"I'm hungry." He chuckles against her neck before sitting and throwing her back her clothes but she turns them away springing over to the drawers. "And once I've eaten I want to swim, and you," she twirls on her heels, her bikini in hand, "are going to join me."

His faces falls exactly as she expected, he wasn't the biggest fan of the water. She slowly pulls his favourite, royal blue, bikini over her. It was all tube straps that needed to be bowed. Cora had often felt self-conscious in it, but Robert had bought it for her, so she had borne the nerves and liked to wear it for him.

"If you're wearing that I might contemplate it."

"Would you do more than contemplate if I promised you something else?" She turns her back to him and he takes the trailing blue ties, swiftly bowing them in the middle of her back.

"You don't have to promise anything. Of course I'll come. I'd have come if you hadn't put that bikini on, I was just hoping if I looked upset you'd decide to wear it."

"In other words, I have a very cheeky husband." He stands, his hands caressing her hips.

"Yes. But I know you love him, so all is fine."

"We best be getting going. The girls will be waiting for us otherwise. I promised we'd have lunch with them." She makes to move passed him, watching the shimmering facets of water beyond the window as she does so, but his hand curls on her hip, spreading a shiver she hadn't been expecting. He tilts her face to him, his finger gently brushing a loose hair from her face, stilling on the corner of her lips. She reaches her hand up to clasp his wrist, turning her lips into his palm. He kisses her gently on the lips before she dives for her dress, the pounding on the door a clear indication that yes they were in fact late for lunch.

"Sometimes I wish we could just make them wait." She laughs as he grabs at her waist again, it was quite stunning to see him like this, the Caribbean was obviously having an effect on him already.

"But we can't. Our time is later, this is a family holiday." But she still indulges him, turning her face quickly to his. It was somewhat mesmerising to be spending a holiday in the vein she and Robert had spent their first holiday in Paris, a year before they were married. She felt young, and for the first time in a while, readily wanted by him.

* * *

Robert tried very hard to maintain his composure. The day, he supposed had been going so well, and now, now Mary seemed to deem it appropriate to ruin the peace. Well, she hadn't strictly destroyed the day Robert just utterly disagreed with the dress she was wearing. It was a scooped v-neck and Robert was totally convinced everyone was watching them as they were escorted to their table. Matthew would not be happy if he could see her. Matthew was her boyfriend of the last three years, and Robert's business partner. He walks steadily behind Cora, his fingers dancing on the bare back her dress revealed. Her skin was creamy, and only marginally creased beneath his palm.

"She shouldn't be wearing that dress." His whispers the words against her head, any onlooker would think he was kissing her elaborate up do.

"You wouldn't be so defensive if I was wearing it, I'm sure."

"You would never wear it." Cora was modest, if she was anything and well, at Mary's age she'd only just entered his life. She was the terrified woman fresh from an American university, who had been bullied by a boyfriend.

"Perhaps not. But, just let her be Robert, she'll take it the wrong way. I'm sure she's just trying to wind you up because you've taken her from Matthew for two weeks." It was true, this was her Spring holiday from the job she'd only had since September and no doubt she had been thinking she was to spend it with Matthew. Only to find that in fact her father had booked a big holiday for all of them.

"Well it was the last chance we might have. Mary will no doubt soon be engaged and Edith and Michael aren't far behind." Cora rolls her eyes at him as the waiter pushes the chair beneath her. He doesn't miss the glance at Mary's dress that the young man makes. He huffs and Cora gives him one of her looks, one that quite clearly reads 'my promise won't hold unless you behave.'

"I wouldn't hold your breath, men are involved, so things take a mighty amount of time." He chuckles at that because it had been true even for them for whose relationship had started with Cora being quite unsure about everything, but she'd still reached the idea of marriage months before he had.

"What are you laughing about Daddy?" It was Sybil, their fourteen year old smile peering up at him from the right hand side of Cora, at the 'head' of the table. She had the best view, straight out onto the froth of the sea which was churning beneath the great propellers, as the ship crawled through the harbour to the open sea.

"Your Mum was saying something funny." His bright eyed daughter turns to Cora next and tries foraging for answers to the questions she had about this so called 'joke.' Cora was defending herself well but Edith had clearly realised the conversation was not something Cora was about to repeat to Sybil and whispering something into her younger sister's ear Sybil blushed scarlet and dropped her questioning. Robert didn't really need to ask what Edith had mumbled, it was apparently something that made Sybil think the joke was entirely private and no doubt to do with the 'mid morning spent in your suite' that Mary had badgered on about all day. Mary remained silent throughout Sybil's questioning, only uttering a comment, and breaking her gaze from the view when the starter arrived.

Robert can't seem to quite focus on the Parma ham, cheese and pineapple dish before him without glancing over at Mary. She looked dejected, pushing the food slowly around her plate, not really eating it. Her mind was miles away and it worried Robert, he hadn't seen her like this since, well, it must have been since she'd been at school. Cora must notice his gaze because her hand slips onto his knee beneath the table her fingers rubbing gently.

"Try this sauce they've put on my salmon." She jabs her fork at the swirl of yellow on one side of her plate, and guessing that it might be mustard, and Cora wanted him to check before she tried it- she hated mustard- he dips his ham into the substance. Sure enough, it's mustard.

"It's got mustard in it." She nods her head and smiles prettily but Robert can't quite take his mind from Mary.

"Have you spoken to Matthew since we arrived?" He can feel Cora's gaze quite squarely on his back but he keeps his eyes trained firmly ahead at his eldest daughter as the waiter switches starter for soup.

"Yes. The office is fine, before you ask."

"I wasn't going to ask. Was he missing you?"

"What do you think?" Her spoon clatters into her soup, the appetising creamy mushroom sloshing over the edge in a suddenly sickly manner. "Why you had to book this holiday I couldn't tell you. But now we're here, you might as well stop pestering me about what I've left behind. It's alright for you, two weeks with Mum all to yourself because you managed to persuade me to share a room with not only one sister, but the other as well." She's stood from the table, snatching her purse from the sill by the window. "I'm going up to the buffet. I'll see you later." She marches to the aisle and Robert keeps staring at the grey, lumpy soup before him refusing to meet the gaze he feels hot on his neck.

The conversation becomes stilted from then on, Edith discusses how agitated Mary had seemed earlier and Sybil confirms that she had been preoccupied, her fingers constantly scrolling on her phone. Cora says very little, but Robert can tell that between the measured sips of wine she takes she's deep in thought.

The elaborate beef course with the steamed vegetables seems to appear flat and sullen now that Mary had jarred everyone's thoughts. Robert was beginning to wonder if he'd made a mistake in making the cruise a family holiday, perhaps he should have just taken Cora. But, the truth was he wanted to celebrate his twenty-fifth wedding anniversary with his girls, they had after all made up twenty-one years of it. He'd arranged it in such a way that time with Cora was available to him but also time with his girls, who were very quickly growing up. It felt like a few months ago when he'd first held the dark haired bundle that the nurse had announced was his daughter. And now, here she was on the brink of her own marriage, at just twenty-one it seemed quite extraordinary. He'd always thought Cora had been young, to settle down at twenty-four, but the three years Mary was likely to scrape off of that really scared him. Subconsciously he wondered if this was why he'd booked this holiday and made sure she could come, he wasn't quite ready to let her go yet, even to Matthew, and he worried she was too young, caught in the wonder of it all and not thinking realistically. From her behaviour this evening it was beginning to look as though he had been mistaken, she appeared to be desperate for Matthew to propose, if indeed that was what was occupying her thoughts.

"I'll speak to her tomorrow if things continue." She's the one whispering to him this time as they leave the dining room, her hand laced gently through his elbow, her fancy cocktail resting in the other hand.

"Do you think she wants him to propose?"

"I'd say so."

Edith and Sybil had left the two of them to enjoy their coffee and retired to the next deck to save some seats for the entertainment, so it's with some surprise that Robert spots a lilac blue trouser suit leaning over the counter at reception. She seems to sense she's being watching because she's turns and sure enough, the flushed face of his fourteen year old daughter turns his way.

"What are you doing?"

"Just making some inquiries about some of the ports of call."

"Wouldn't destination services be of more use for that?" Cora seems to find it as fishy as he does as they ascend the stairs.

"They're closed."

"Really, I could swear when I read the cruise news it said they were open at this time." Cora delves into her clutch, slipping the article posted beneath their cabin door, from within.

"Emergency, they changed their hours." Cora looks sceptical, her brow furrowing but they've reached the top of the staircase, Sybil darting off into the low lit theatre. "We're near the front. Third row."

"What on earth is she up to?" Cora beams up at him, her whole smile radiating in the dimly lit room. It was funny how the deep pit of annoyance in him could vanish at the sight of her smile. The sound of her chuckles and the gentle press of her arm against his own.

He'd missed that more than anything else. Sex had been sparse for a while that was for sure, but they were older, perhaps that had been the animalistic cause of him watching that Jane too closely, indulging her infatuation a little too much but it hadn't really changed what he wanted from his marriage, so much more than just that. Deep down he supposed the problem had rooted deeper than that. It had been woven into the routine their life had become. The school run, helping with homework, cooking, calls from their daughters miles away needing some support, long drives, no sleep. So, he'd booked this holiday, a surprise, oh, and he'd sorted out Jane. He wanted the small things back, that was what this was about reinventing Robert and Cora: moving their marriage into their new lifestyle.

"I don't know what she's about. But I do know, that my wife is stunning." He knows he takes her by surprise, her face twisting sharply towards him, her glass coming to rest slowly on the drinks table the further side of her as she assesses him.

"You're trying to make up for upsetting Mary."

"I'm doing no such thing. You do truly look beautiful tonight."

"Thank you darling." She laces her fingers through the ones he's placed on the curved wooden armrest of the club chair. She leans over to him anyhow, her lips pressing lightly at his neck. "You don't have to try to please me you know. Despite what you said to Mary, my promise still stands."

His thoughts flash across their afternoon as the dancing and singing starts. The flashes of the varying shades of costume stirring his thoughts.

The turquoise had been her eyes, the way they'd shined when he'd announced that Sybil was sharing with her sisters.

Red was the shade of her lips, the swollen plumpness.

The yellows and oranges were the sun watching over them as they'd swum in the warm salt water of the swimming pool, fresh from the Caribbean Sea beneath them.

The white the reflection from her sunglasses as the sun had hit the frames, blinding him at times.

The Royal blue was her bikini as he clasped it behind her back and then later beneath the water, her wet hands clinging to him as he tried desperately to tickle her.

The fawns and browns were her hair and skin. The former wafting from her bun onto her shoulders as they enjoyed the water. The fawn reflected, slightly the creamy colour of her skin. The feel of it beneath his lips seems to come fresh to his mind. The sensitivity of his fingers heightened as he relishes the small contact he has with her now. Many couples may have thought it mundane to hold hands, that it didn't mean much after a certain time but Robert had to disagree, it was these things that were the continuity. The friendship and the trust. They were the spark that had once, some twenty-nine years ago, set the ball rolling.

The show ends and Robert can't believe that forty minutes has passed. Sybil jumps from her chair exclaiming her desire to try the disco. Cora nods her approval and reaches for his hand as she stands. He clasps it and let's her drag him up the stairs to the still darker lounge above. Sybil drags Edith to the dance floor, he and Cora finding a seat off to the left of the floor.

He ambles to the bar, presenting his ship card to the bar tender before ordering a beer for himself and a sweet white wine for Cora, specifically the one she'd drunk on their first proper date.

He returns to where he'd left her to find Edith and Sybil sat around as well, the latter vigorously questioned her mother again.

"Oh come on Mama, how did you and Dad first meet?"

"Well, I was applying for the job as his secretary."

"We know that. I want detail." Cora glances nervously at him, her gaze unsure, questioning.

The truth was Robert could remember the day as clearly as if it was yesterday.

* * *

 _The morning had been horrendous, candidate after candidate waltzing through his doors, or strutting in the case of most of them, skirts to short, faces caked in makeup. It was therefore with great regret that he stumbled back to his top floor office on the 26th January. A day that he would look back on in the future, in less than even a year, as a very important day._

 _But at that moment he was contemplating turning the next candidate away the moment she walked through the door, he didn't want a secretary caked in makeup wearing a headband around her waist. He was angry with himself more than anything, he'd brought himself a reputation. The irony was he'd never slept with even half his secretaries, the issue was he'd probably picked the wrong ones to sleep with._

 _He was all prepared therefore as the door swung open to eye the woman up and down before he so much as let her anywhere near the chair opposite him. He knew it was wrong, to choose a woman like that, to be so obvious. But he was the leader of a vast company, a company that was watched like a hawk. He'd sat in many a meeting recently where the values of Downton Establishment had been brought into question- it had all been to do with him. He needed to break the mould, the rumour. His secretary, the woman assigned to accompanying him everywhere had to be a woman with morals, and ideally a decent length skirt. His reputation was on the line. His family title might have dissolved into insignificance about ninety years ago but the papers managed to dig it up when they wanted to-he did still live in the London house of his ancestors after all._

 _It's with more than just a little surprise therefore that when he looks up his eyes first glimpse a pair of reasonable height heels, this woman wasn't about to break her ankles. A little higher he finds the hem of her dress- a black bold shade, the size of most of the whole skirts he'd seen earlier that day. The dress had a white bodice and a black stripe matching the hem at the waist. And most importantly of all the hem was just three inches from her knees, and the skirt was flared. Still higher he finds a modest neckline, a pearl necklace nestled at her throat and a face that was certainly not caked in makeup. Her hair was dark, very dark, or at least it appeared so when her skin was so close to white. Her lips were rounded, pink and rather inviting-he curses himself for that. Her eyes are blue, a piercing blue that at that moment are narrowed in his direction. She steps forward with a folder in hand._

 _"Lord Downton," he was shocked at that, hardly anybody knew there was a title for the heir apparent. But that wasn't the thing that startled him most, it was the rich American accent, the tone of her voice as she spoke, it was altogether very captivating. "Before I sit down, I'd like to make something clear, I'm not here for anything but the job, if I get the job our relationship will only ever be professional. If you have a problem with that, I'd like to know now, before I waste any more time." He raises his eyebrows, so, she had morals, and a certain sense of pride-she was exactly what he was looking for._

 _"Miss..." He glances down at his desk, searching for the folder that should contain her_ _notes, it drops into the top of his hands a second later._

 _"It's Miss Cora Levinson, and those," she points dramatically at the folder she'd dropped, "are I think, my notes, the gentleman downstairs said I was to bring them up." And then something happens that even he doesn't expect. He stands and reaches out his hand, her own small, slender fingers filling his large palm._

 _"I think Miss Levinson, you're perfect for the job. You fit all the credentials." Her hand slips from his grasp, her eyebrows raised in what Robert immediately recognises as astonishment._

 _"Really. Without so much as opening that folder you know I'm right for the job. I highly doubt that even you, the mighty Lord Downton, can make such an assumption. My 'credentials', a word I think you've used too freely appear to be merely my appearance." He closes his eyes his body slumping into the seat. He could hardly look through her folder now, and announce her perfect for the job. She'd think he was lying. He's surprised to find her own delicate form slips into the chair opposite him._

 _"Miss Levinson. You must forgive me, I've had a long day. A vast number of interviews for which I knew the moment the woman walked through the door I didn't want her. You surprised me when you appeared. I have a gut feeling that is all, that you and I would work well together. I'd be honoured if you would agree to be my personal assistant."_

 _"Personal assistant?" He hadn't noticed his own slip of the tongue. But the honest truth was, a woman that looked like Miss Levinson could not be his mere secretary, people would greatly question his motives._

 _"Yes. The phrase secretary is all to common for a woman like yourself."_

 _"Lord Downton-"_

 _"Mr Crawley, or Robert, please."_

 _"I refuse to become your piece of fluff for you to dress up and drag to meetings however you wish. I don't want to be paraded around for you to chuckle over with every second man. I know your reputation. And I refuse." The irony was he admired her for her courage to stand up to him, the flare, the good breeding, as his mother would say, that it showed. Any other woman would have been sent out of his office by now, but her sparking blue eyes kept him watching, kept him trying to guess what she was thinking, what she was going to fire at him next._

 _"Your point is clear Miss Levinson, or may I call you Cora."_

 _"Not yet no."_

 _"What I want to know, is why you applied for this job if you knew so much about my supposed reputation?"_

 _"A woman is allowed secrets Robert, is she not?" He doesn't miss the way she manipulates her words, using the first name he'd only just allowed her to use, her accent rolling far too well over the r's. The fact her phrase has a sexual insinuation. She was playing him, and he wanted her to._

 _"Of course. I apologise. I was being rude."_

 _"The truth is, I've only been in England a week. Yours was the first job I saw advertised in the paper once I'd purchased my house so I came." He can sense a discomfort, a trickling of something beneath the exterior, something she was trying so hard to hide and that was cutting her up._

 _"Your move to England was sudden?" Her hand reaches for the bracelet on her wrist, her nose scrunches up and the confident woman disappears, her shoulders visibly shake. "I'm sorry. Forgive me. That was even more rude than before."_

 _"It's okay. You might as well know. I split from the man my parents had, I found out later, set up for me to marry. I ran."_

 _"An arranged marriage is-"_

 _"Search me, and you'll know. I think you might even understand, considering your background." It was amazing how the interview had fallen apart,the woman before him was not the confident, strong-willed woman he had first seen. Perhaps she once had been that person, but the Miss Levinson that now sat before him, timid and shaking was who she was now. He hoped that maybe he could bring back the young lady he had a feeling she was._

 _He flicks his fingers over the keys as she watches. Wikipedia brings up her link. The daughter of Isidore Levinson, the sister of Harold Levinson, the two gentlemen were partners in the family's law firm. The biggest law firm in America._

 _"The marriage, or rather the one your parents wanted was to solidify the law company?"_

 _"Yes. He was an investor. The biggest investor, or the son of anyway." Her eyes close, her fingers curling once more around the bracelet on her wrist._

 _"Miss Levinson, I won't pity you, because I don't think you would want me to. But, I give you my protection, and this job. If your parents-"_

 _"They agreed with my decision. He was a vile man. I just needed to know I would n_ ever _see him again." He takes a steadying breath, so, he wasn't about to be bundled up in a law suit. "I needed a fresh start, my whole life had been the firm. I'd gone to university to escape it only to return to this arrangement. I refuse to go back."_

 _"Well then, Miss Levinson. I think we might start going forward, together."_


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you to all the people who have read, favourited and followed this story. I hope you enjoy the rest of it and I'd love to hear your thoughts however small, they mean a great deal!

Updates will be Friday's. Enjoy!

* * *

The beach is long and white, just as he'd seen it in the catalogue and on the Internet. He thought it wouldn't be, he'd assumed all the images were airbrushed. That the sun didn't shine that brightly and the sea wasn't quite as turquoise as it appeared. But it was. The Palm trees were as tall as they were in the postcards and swung gently due entirely to their height, as there was no breeze upon the beach. The call of exotic birds could be heard all around mingling with the chiming of the samba band in the chalet. What wasn't presented on the postcards was the way the beach disappeared so quickly back into forest. The bank of white sand quickly changing to brown and then green; trees sprouting up between them: empty coconut shells littered between the greenery.

The beach was dotted with people, well over half of which were sporting the ships blue towels and had obviously been on the excursion to see the village in which part of Death in Paradise was filmed. It had been Edith's desire to see the place which the actors had spent months of the year, she was rather a fan of the show and Robert had been proud to see her so happy. Sybil was enjoying the beach element far more: the sun cream had appeared in seconds, her dress flopping to the sand as she'd laid on her back exclaiming her desire to have a 'tan to show my friends,' the cream liquid finding a home on her bare stomach. She was still there now, her straw hat propped beneath her, sunglasses pressed over her eyes refusing to move. Mary was miles away, well not quite, she was a dot in the distance having swum out to the rope across the bay, she'd been bobbing in the water, occasionally falling onto her back to drift on the surface. Edith had recently joined Sybil, lying in her stomach for half a second before she switches to her back, rubbing gently at her stomach and brushing the towel frantically as she sits up, moving whatever the offending object had been.

Of all these things, it was Cora sat on the edge of the water, the sea tickling at her toes and the sand trickling through her fingers that was captivating his attention. Her hair was in a messy bun upon her head, the sun setting off the shades of hazelnut and ginger that shone through only on these occasions. She turns her head, her eyes meeting his and he stands.

He was still finding it very surreal to be spending so much time with Cora despite the family element of the holiday. It pleased him, very much, but had somehow taken him by surprise. He realised now this was an odd sensation to feel, he'd known they'd have the evenings together, the girls probably, as they had been, wandering off to enjoy different elements of the entertainment offered onboard. But he hadn't bargained on the time in the day that Cora seemed to set aside for them, a stroll around the deck, an hour in their cabin, an afternoon workshop. He felt stupidly young again, and it had taken him by surprise. Cora had always taken him by surprise though, it wasn't exactly anything new.

"Come swim with me." She has her brow knitted together, but her hand falls into his and he helps her up. He pulls too hard, fully intended, and she flies into him, he catches her easily, his lips grazing the strands of strawberry scented hair, his free hand encircling her waist. He releases her quickly her eyes darting around the beach in embarrassment. He's briefly forgotten his offer of a swim but it seemed she hadn't, her feet already pulling him forward. She looks rather dashing, she always did mind you, in the red bikini he'd never seen before. It was a simple shape, just clips like a bra, but the ruffling on the tops of the cups made her look bigger than she was, no doubt the intention. Not that Robert had ever minded, he'd never even thought of it before. She was perfectly in proportion, perfectly beautiful and that was all that mattered.

The water rushes at his feet, swirling through his toes and over his ankles. He'd never been a fan of the water, and had never truly learnt more than a doggy paddle before he'd met Cora. But he'd taken it upon himself, at the beginning of their relationship, solely because she had given him so much despite the fact every fibre of her brain told her she was setting herself up for heartbreak. She'd taught him and his fear had disappeared to some extent, as long as she was with him. She knows that, her hand staying perfectly pressed in his.

The water encompasses his knees and waist eventually. The liquid sloshing at Cora's belly. She releases his hand then, her full body falling into the waves. He advances after her form and smiles when she rolls onto her back, stopping a little further out. He lifts himself from the water as she does, and gasps when the humid air hits his skin, evaporating the water away immediately.

She reaches out her hand to his waist, her cold fingers massaging firmly over his skin, her face tilted up to his. Her hand drifts higher, twisting and curling through the tufts of hair she admired so much on his chest. He takes the hand from its place and sinks into the water again, desperate to feel the ice cold run over his skin and kill the burning that wasn't just building because of the intense sunlight.

"Swim out to the rope with me." She raises her eyebrows from her standing position above him.

"Really?" He knows she's only trying to make sure she's not mistaken, that she's worried about his own nerves at such an idea.

"Yes." He swims in that direction as he says so, watching her from his position in the water.

He feels her beside him a few seconds later, the rippling of the water she displaces brushing against his body as gently as her own touch often does. He pushes onwards, a small desire to beat her to the rope consuming him, he wanted to prove that he wasn't going anywhere. He'd rather fight with her, something they'd done a little too much of until about a month ago, than do this kind of thing, or in fact sleep, with any other woman.

He does beat her to the fraying rope, or rather the tangled mixture of multiple strands of rope, his supple hand encircling the rough edges. The fibres digging at the smooth junctions as he tries to catch his breath. He might have touched it before her, but she's very close behind him, and obviously not out of breath, in other words she'd let him win.

"You let me win." She chuckles, her body bobbing beside his own as she keeps herself afloat.

"I did not!" The humidity licks at his neck and face as he tries not to think of her gestures in the way they'd been used the previous night.

"Kiss me."

It wasn't her usual demand, not in public anyway, and it's his turn to doubt her. She seems to be ready for his doubt though and reaches forward to pull herself to him, their bodies somewhat crushed. Her other hand stays firmly on the rope, her legs still swinging beneath her.

He kisses her gently, not wanting to topple their precarious position. She giggles against his mouth and he knows it's to do with the closed state of his lips. She pulls back her hand curling into the back of his hair.

"Nobody can see Robert, unless they're looking. The girls are all the way back on the shore, and it's only one kiss."

"That wasn't what worried me. I didn't want us to end up under." He sounded like a child, or at least any onlooker would have thought so, but he knew Cora wouldn't, she'd always understood the fear, particularly of open water unattended by lifeguards.

She doesn't say anything, just brushes her hand along the nape of his hair quietly thinking. She presses her lips to his again a few minutes later and he lets her gently ease his lips apart, knowing she won't go anywhere that makes him feel unsafe. In truth, it was the trust that he loved the most. Every true relationship has to have an element of trust, but theirs was something special. She'd been so anxious all those years ago, a wreck if he was honest and she'd built herself back up, they'd built her back up but only because she'd allowed herself to trust him, something that he knew had been the hardest thing of all. To trust a man after what had happened to her. And he'd trusted her in response being sure that he could let her help him conquer his water thing if he could help her through the rest of her life. She'd thought of it as repayment.

The swim back is more gentle, no race, and Robert realises, no current dragging them the opposite way. It's only when the shore is within distance and the golden grains of sand are near enough for him feet to touch comfortably that they stop. His gaze falls to his three girls on the shore.

Sybil was still flat to the sand. But Edith and Mary were looking right at them, the latter in disgust, Edith with an expression Robert couldn't place; he couldn't distinguish the creases, they weren't a frown, no. She was thinking, he thought, but her thoughts weren't pleasing her. Edith rubbed her stomach every so often and Robert wondered if the huge breakfast he'd seen her scoff that morning was beginning to have an effect- he'd never seen her eat so much.

"I think, when we get back to the ship I'm going to have a word with Mary." Robert hadn't thought Cora would take the task up in herself soon, they'd only been on holiday one day. They'd had a say at sea yesterday, and today Guadeloupe was their first port of call.

"We can't force her to be happy."

"No, but I can make her realise how lucky she is."

"Why, because you think you're not?" They are walking beside each other up the ridge of golden sand his gaze now fixed even more firmly on his footing. Did Cora not feel comfortable with him anymore?

"No, I'm he luckiest woman alive, I married you." Her fingers curl into his. The last droplets of water that are still clinging to her skin disappearing as his warmer skin presses against hers.

They've only been out the water less than minute but his damp feet from a second ago begin burning on the granules, the salt all that's left upon his skin as the water disappears to nothing. The safety of the towels eases the burning.

He just watches her for a while, as she positions herself carefully on the fabric and begins rubbing lotion thick and fast over her bare skin.

"Dad, you don't have to stare at Mum, we had enough of that when you were in the sea."

"Nobody said you had to watch it Mary." Her American accent drifts from between her lips, one eye open as she tries to find Mary's gaze, Robert can't help but smile at how endearing she looks.

He lies down beside her, thinking, wondering, a thousand different memories dancing before his eyes. Her smiles, laughs. The shining of her eyes at the births of their three children. The desire that cloaked them in moments of passion. It was her eyes that had shocked him that first time, in his office, the richness of the blue hue. His thoughts drift to their first night out, the red dress she'd worn, her hair dancing on her shoulders, the exaggerated curls of her eyelashes, the charcoal lines she'd swirled on her eyelids. Memories of that nights conversation thread through his mind. Then the tears and the hugs that had followed. The shock he knows he showed. He'd learnt a lot that night, about the fragile nature of life, but most importantly he'd uncovered the reason for her unease. At the time it had seemed paramount, looking back he realised the moment had been monumental. He could have walked away, turned his back on the timid girl in the red dress. But he'd stayed. Now they were here.

His hand falls from his body, knowing hers will be flat upon the towel by her side. He finds it, and claims it, holding it so very tightly.

* * *

Mary's hair was thick, it always had been. As Cora lets it run easily through her fingers she looks over the top of her daughter's head, watching her in the mirror. ABBA's tune of 'Slipping through my Fingers' comes to mind and she begins to gently hum beneath the sound of the hairdryer. She's halfway through the second verse when Mary's hand takes the dryer from her clasp and flicks the switch to off.

"That's dry enough." She makes to stand but Cora reaches forward, holding her shoulders down and leaning over her, pressing a kiss to her head.

"You've grown up very quickly my dear. I remember you less than a minute old, it feels like yesterday."

"That's what all Mother's say."

"Yes, I suppose it is, you'll say it one day." Mary bites her lips at that, swivelling on her chair to stand. But Cora anticipates her, catching her knees as the chair swings. "There is something you're keeping from me."

Mary stares down at her, her fingers running along Cora's painted nails a second later, tracing the lines that had shaped Cora's hands for some time now. Her head bows against her chest. It was serious then, that was all Cora needed to see to know that the situation, whatever it was, was eating away at Mary more than any of them had comprehended. Mary never cried.

She squeezes her daughters fingers. Reaching a hand around her shoulders as she lifts herself from the crouch on the ground. Mary seems to give into her support, much like a drunken, and leans against her. Stumbling to the bed with her. Mary had never, since the age of at least twelve, come to Cora about anything. Boys, periods, school work, sex had never been mentioned between them, Cora had been the 'mother' the isolated figure that meant little. She'd always been her daddy's little girl and if not him Mr Carson, one of Robert's colleagues and her godfather, had a rather soft spot for her. Now though, it seemed Mary was keeping something penned up inside her that was destined to explode.

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong." She stumbles from the bed, her hands reaching blindly in front of her. She finds what she wants, the tissues before flopping back into the chair she had vacated a few moments before. Cora stares after her retreating back and then her slumped form, wondering whether it was Matthew that was getting her into this state.

"If this is to do with Matthew, I doubt-"

"Is it to do with Matthew? What do you think? That I'm about to start a lecture on Edith?" Cora almost, very almost screams back at her, but as she stands she remembers all those times her mother had talked to her, she'd never shouted, always tried her very best to be calm and rational, her body falls back onto the single bed, the trimming of which is all in oranges- it seemed every suite had a different colour scheme.

Cora stays silent, waiting, as a barrister might do in a court for the person before her to add more detail. Mary seems to calm with the silence, the tissue she'd taken from the box being dabbed gently at the side of her eyes.

"Tell me, how did you make Dad propose?" So, this was about Matthew and marriage. She chuckles, Mary was so very blunt.

"I never made him. He came around all on his own."

"You must have given him some encouragement. I mean, he knew you wanted marriage?" Her thoughts drift to a night long ago, curled in a bed, Robert mumbling beneath her ear that they should get married. She'd been dropping hints to him for a month or so at that point but she'd quite plainly refused when he'd lifted his face to look at her. 'You don't have a ring, I'm not going to accept until you do it properly.' She'd only been teasing, really, as he'd already known that she wanted a proper proposal.

"He knew, yes. But, it had taken me some time to get used to the idea of settling down so I never felt like I was waiting around for him to propose. Whereas, I think you do with Matthew?"

"Yes. We've discussed it, agreed that marriage is where we want the relationship to go. But that was months ago."

"How many months?"

"Three or four." Cora chews at the inside of her cheek. If she was perfectly honest she worried if Mary herself was sure, that she wasn't just rushing into getting married because she and Robert had voiced their opinion, numerous times that living together before getting married was an easy way out for a man, an easy way to make a woman believe he was committed without tying himself down. She didn't think Matthew was like that, not at all. But she worried that Mary really wasn't ready for the life she seemed to be spiralling towards. Fresh out of university marriage seemed like a surprising step.

"Mary, forgive me for questioning your judgement, but are you ready, for marriage. Is that really what you want? It's easy to love someone when you're tumbling in the sheets together, it's twice as hard when they need to be washed. For every happy moment, there are two or three that get missed, overlooked. Not in the first few years perhaps, but when children arrive-" Mary rolls her eyes and Cora breaks off, watching her quizzically.

"Mum, children are some way off, I can assure you, the marriage thing is what we are discussing. And I know I want that. I want Matthew. I've seen what you have with Dad, and I know I pull a face sometimes, but Matthew gives me that."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure." Cora gently stands, treading her way carefully back to the door. She keeps her face firmly trained on the mirror that hangs on the back of the cabin door, but she doesn't see herself. She sees Mary behind her, getting smaller, slipping too quickly through the clasp on her that Cora no longer has. There's no influence any more. It was Matthew that influenced. She never felt she'd feel the insignificance, or perhaps she just hadn't been prepared. Twenty-one, she never thought her daughter would want to be married at twenty-one.

"What did you mean when you said it had taken you a while to get used to the idea of settling down?" Her eyes sting as she tries to force the tears away so she can turn and look at her eldest daughter, whose gaze is firmly fixed on her back. The room swims back into perspective, Mary closer than she had been before, but only because Cora had teetered, through her suppressed tears back towards the seating area.

"I didn't mean much, just that I imagine Matthew has reasons for his silence and that you should speak to him about them." Mary seems to smile for he first time since they'd left home. Her hands tracing over the fabric of the maroon shade of the dress she was about to put on.

"So, you had reasons for keeping silent all those years ago, it seems the plot thickens." Cora doesn't laugh, despite the fact Mary obviously wants her to. Instead her hand falls on the necklace abandoned on the sideboard. She picks it up holding the string of stones before the light. "It's Edith's." Mary says nothing more about the jewels, her tone reflecting a certain element of jealousy. Cora could see why, the five stones on it were most definitely diamonds- clearly a present from Michael before his most recent departure to Afghanistan.

Michael was Edith's childhood, or rather teenage sweetheart. They'd started dating when Edith had been doing her a-levels, he had been busy training for the army. His training had gone splendidly but when his father had suddenly died Michael had inherited the family's magazine company, that was now, entirely in Edith's hands while he was away. It was how they had met, she'd worked part-time for Michael's father and he'd offered her a senior role after she'd completed her exams. She had a flare, he'd said. Michael had a habit of bestowing on Edith a collection of rather extravagant gifts usually after his most recent leave. This piece was obviously from his visit four months ago.

"So, what was it that was putting you off commitment?"

"A bad experience." Cora so dearly hopes that everything she knew about her eldest daughter would fall through at that moment. She hoped Mary would just drop the questioning, just this once in her life. Of course, Mary doesn't drop it and instead Cora feels the gaze of her eyes as her words stab into the wound that she tried so hard to keep buried.

"Oh, who was the man then, before Dad? He'd obviously been setting your heart a flutter."

"Oh Mary, you exaggerate." Mary doesn't say anything, just eyes her with her head cocked, a superiority overwhelming her that has nothing to do with age, Mary could just be very intimidating. She flops decisively into the chair, she was going to be here a while. "He was the son of my father's main investor. Our parents pushed us together, something mine deeply regretted. We weren't well suited, we broke up, or rather I ran away, a week before the marriage." Cora dearly hoped it would suffice. But Mary had a habit of not realising when people were uncomfortable and pushing her point for more information, that was exactly what she did now.

"But, that doesn't explain why you were scared of commitment."

"I learnt afterwards, or before I left, that I'd entrusted my whole life to a man I couldn't actually trust. He saw marriage as something different to what I saw. When I met your father, less than a month later, I had vowed never to let a man into my life." That wasn't the whole truth, no where near in fact, but she wasn't about to launch into a tale of her previous woes not when she'd managed to bury them; trust Robert, and move on.

"What changed?"

"Your father made me back into me. The mother you see sat here is not the woman I was when I met your Dad. I was broken. I learned to trust him. I fell in love." Mary seems to gaze passed her, her expression fixed in thought.

"What was different about Dad? What made you trust him?" Cora chews at her lip, there had been something. There had, but to place her finger on what it had been specifically was impossible.

"He was honest, from the moment I walked through his office door he didn't hide what he was. And I think perhaps the biggest single point was he understood. The pressure of parents, a family enterprise, a suitable marriage. It had weighed him down just as it had crushed me. We created a mutual friendship." Cora thinks back over those first few weeks in his office. Her desk was stationed outside his office, in a small anteroom. He moved his desk the second day of her starting so he could talk to her through the door. Everything came up, everything she realised now apart from what he wanted to ask. He'd trodden carefully around the idea of a relationship knowing her previous history. But he'd found support in her, they'd laughed when his mother turned up exclaiming about the latest group of people he had to entertain to spread word of the business, or she wafted in with news of the 'up and coming Mr whomever it was that day.' Cora had seen it all before, she'd been a pawn in that exact game in fact. She sympathised and in return he asked her opinion, and eventually, some three months after meeting plucked up the courage to ask her to the company's annual ball. It turned out that the event would be turning point. A turning point that changed her life.

* * *

 _The reflection in the mirror seemed to jeer back at her. It seemed to scream she was making a mistake. In truth the subconscious part of her mind that was so very unsteady about this endeavour probably had a point. Robert was a womaniser. Everyone knew it. Pictures had been splashed across every tabloid since he'd started in his post at Downton. Every Friday night Cora had seen images of Lord Downton splashed across the gossip pages of American papers each week with a different woman in tow, most of which were his secretaries. The problem for her was that her conscious mind had begun, in the last three months, to rather enjoy his company._

 _It had all started when he'd moved his desk from the far side of the room to the wall that meant he had a clear view of her desk in his outer office. They talked through the door, often traipsing home with a pile of work to do because they'd spent one too many hours of the day discussing his mother, politics-of which their discussions became very heated very quickly. Or, and these were perhaps the funniest of all, the arrival of business men, investors or job seekers all of whom Cora could gauge an immediate impression of. She'd mime to Robert (they'd devised a series of expressions and gestures that he could make out when she was stood behind the newest arrival to the office) which usually resulted in his struggling to keep a straight face._

 _She supposed that the problem was she'd been rather prejudiced. She'd expected an idiot of a man who cared for nothing but money and what it could buy him. The truth, or what she was vastly beginning to realise was the truth, was far from this tyrant._

 _Robert had never questioned her on her past, the man in America. Any information he gleaned she had willingly given as a reason for some other question she was answering. He never took those answers and tried to wheedle more information, he kept quiet or asked about some letter she was meant to be typing._

 _In the last month though, things had changed. Cora had sensed a change in him, a sudden shyness and apprehension that seemed to cloud their days at work. They no longer had to be reminded to take their lunch break, one of them had stood at exactly one, for the last four weeks and dashed out the door. Silences had elapsed for longer minutes, Robert always looking to be on the brink of saying something and_ then _changing his mind. It had effected her more then she had thought. She'd been enjoying herself, actually valuing and appreciating what she had in life for the first time in, months, perhaps even years, she hadn't been this content for a very long time. But with Robert's attitude change she had begun, very quickly, to draw links from the past into her present situation. Robert was growing bored of her, she was uninteresting, couldn't captivate his attention. He was only a friend, a boss. No wonder Simon had run off and found other women, she wasn't enough to amuse her boss let alone a future husband._

 _All in all it had taken her somewhat by surprise when this afternoon when discussion had, for the first time, Cora had since realised, since the date of the company ball had been announced a month ago, turned to the event. That being said it had shocked her three times as much when he'd stopped awkwardly by her desk, as she'd been packing her bag, and scratching his head and looking far more anxious than the man with the never ending reputation with women had asked if, 'only obviously it's stupid because I'm sure you're going with somebody, but would you like me to pick you up on my way tonight. So, then...I can introduce you to some of the other company members?' She'd stared into her bag for a good few seconds before quietly asking what time. He'd replied that he'd be there to pick her up at 7, she gave him her address._

 _And now, well, it was five to seven. She brings the mascara_ _brush_ _back to her eye flicking more black gently onto the long lashes her mother had always called beautiful. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts as she tries so desperately to distinguish what she wanted from her fears. She'd wanted to punish herself every moment for agreeing to his lift; she had fallen right into his trap. Yet, she couldn't help feeling that she hadn't. In the time she had been Robert's secretary he hadn't been seen in the paper with another woman in tow, he rarely went out at the weekend. He was, beneath the never ending pressure of his mother and his father's legacy, an honest young man with a certain set of morals. It was his status Cora was beginning to think, mixed with the stress and the exaggeration of the newspapers that presented him as a womaniser. She'd met a womaniser. Goodness he'd been her first and last boyfriend, her intended husband. Robert wasn't him._

 _The distant hum of a car coming to a stop makes her turn to the window, a curse evaporating into the air around her when she sees him step out of the posh black car, a brolly quickly being lifted over his head to protect against the March downpour. He races up the steps to the house next door and Cora chuckles, her face turning from side to side. She continues to watch as he seemingly realises his mistake, the angry Mrs Patmore with her wild ginger hair giving him a dressing down she could hear from where she stood. She races down the stairs, tripping on the last step on the heels she had laid out for the occasion. She groans as a stab of pain shoots to her lower back- that wasn't going to be good for dancing. She scrambles to her feet, dragging the golden clutch bag off the floor and the door keys from the hook._

 _The rain thunders down and Cora distantly wonders if she should wait for him to ring the bell before she steps outside but a peak through the key hole tells her Robert is approaching, umbrella still the right way around. She opens the door and in all of the half a second that it takes for him to reach her she looks him up and down._

 _The water flicks from the ends of his perfectly immaculate black shoes; his hair is slightly ruffled- he'd probably run his hand through it; his suit is a pale grey, faint stripes travelling vertically. The lining peaks out from one of the pockets- a startling red. A ruby red in fact, she distantly realises, a shade that is the exact shade of the dress she stood in. His tie was scarlet as well. But it was the width of his shoulders and the agile way in which he jumped the steps two at a time, sprinkling some of the water from the umbrella onto her that captured her attention. It was that which kept her looking, stopped her from turning and placing the key in the lock._

 _He hadn't noticed her, his mind being obviously occupied with the steps and keeping dry, therefore she's ready for his impact and her hand instinctively reaches out to protect her, falling central to his chest. She drops it immediately as his apologies waft at her ears and her fingers fumble over the keys._

 _He offers his arm as she turns back around and she readily accepts it for the slippery steps. As she focuses on keeping one_ _foot in front of the other she registers that he must be holding the umbrella over her. She can't remember having ever been in such close proximity of Simon before, not casually anyway, a heat rises in her cheeks and she drops his arm at the bottom of the steps: doubt and her previous concerns for Robert's motives gnawing at her brain._

 _He helps her into the back seat of the car and it's then, as the door closes and she's surrounded by the rich red leather and the smell that speaks of its expense that she shivers. The warmth of the car shouldn't have surprised her but she briefly digs her heel into the floor- she really should have remembered the gold shawl she'd had laid out on her bed since half past five. She tries to clench her shivers as he slides into the backseat be_ side _her, edging to a closeness that Cora feared. It was a step she wasn't willing to take. She wasn't willing to give herself or her time, for that matter, to a man likely to let her down, cheat on her, hurt her. She'd done that. She wasn't about to let another man use her._

 _She slides away and Robert seems to get the picture, a level of understanding twisting behind his eyes. She smiles at him then._

 _"You look very smart, not that it's unusual. But I hope you didn't do it for me."_

 _"Whether I did it for you or not, it's a good job I did because I could hardly turn up looking any less smart than I do at this moment with you on my arm. People might think you're the boss." She laughs at that but she doesn't miss the hidden compliment, nor the way his eyes wander over her as she chuckles. She most certainly can't deny the weird fuzz that seems to amplify her being. It was like electricity, a gentle hum that seemed to resound from her core, only to be squashed by her overactive brain badgering that the compliments he bestowed were leading to only one thing, his own pleasure and enjoyment. Her mouth falls shut._

 _The journey passes in short conversations about work and various people that had appeared in the building that week, some speculation on who was going to be at the party, and how well they'd be dressed. The moments in between felt awkward, Cora unable to look at him and instead spending time twiddling with her bag or dress his gaze normally resting on the side of her face he could see._

 _The car rolls to a stop and Cora has to be careful not to sigh in relief. Robert seems to sense her excitement and reaches for her hand as she turns to get out._

 _"Someone will open it." He moved away, gently disentangling himself from how he'd leaned against her. He adjusts his jacket just as the door opens on her side of the car. She keeps her legs together, or tries to, an angry voice from just a few months ago reverberating in her mind: 'legs together, look the part, you're to be my wife-proper at all times.' It hadn't mattered of course, that he was behaving as appallingly as he was, no, it was she that had to look the part. She tries to clear the memory but it won't go and she's well aware she's frozen half upright, a sea of faces, and a red carpet-all unfamiliar- stretching before her._

 _A pair of shoes, black and polished stop to her left, a hand clasping her own, her clutch bag gently removed from it._

 _"A bad memory?" She's upright by then, the flashing going off around her. Her hand easily wrapped around his elbow- she can't remember clearly how that happened, the doorman holds the umbrella over them both. But it's his remark that sets her mind in gear, those wavering questions coming back to her about whether she should trust him or not. This was a clear 'yes' moment, most men would have assumed her heel was caught another man, namely Simon would have walked right passed, forgetting they'd even travelled together._

 _"Yes."_

 _"Smile Cora. You are on the arm of the handsomest man here!' She chuckles at that, his sarcasm always did amuse her. The fact she was vastly coming to the conclusion_ that he _was indeed the handsomest man at the event she laughs still more._

 _The walk up the carpet is shorter than she had originally thought when the prospect had appeared to her. In all of a minute and a half, a couple more pictures and Robert having a seemingly deep discussion with the obvious leader of the group of paparazzi- the only moment he parts from her side, they step into the hall of the venue._

 _She can hear the music in the next room, the orchestra and the gentle hums of classical music that he so loved- this was a proper ball then, she'd been anticipating more of a disco but it seemed the Grantham's liked to remember where they had come from._

 _"Are you alright?"_

 _"Yes, yes. Just a little overwhelmed." He seems to take her genuine excitement, a feeling she hadn't experienced in far too long, the wrong way._

 _"Your picture won't appear in the paper. I've paid them to leave you unmentioned." She glances up at him, a wholly new admiration working its way through her bones._

 _"You didn't have to-"_

 _"I want you to remain as my secretary. I don't want you to run of, nor do I want your..."_

 _"My past to come back to haunt me." She could see the words forming between his brow. He merely nods leading her gently into the ballroom._

 _The room is gigantic, huge. The chandelier captures the attention of every gaze. It hangs to what appears to be half the height of the room, but it must be the domed roof that creates the effect. Her mouth parts into a small 'o' her head rocking backwards as she lifts her eyes to take in the expanse of the room. Her grip hardens on Robert's arm as she does so, the height of the building making her feel dizzy; the shiny surface not likely to be a good combination with her heels if she slips. A stage sits at the far end the orchestra risen atop it. You can easily spy the women amongst the rows, their bright dresses a contrast to the blacks and whites of their colleagues shirts and jackets. Robert leads her in the general direction of the food tables- already surrounded by faces she couldn't recall._

 _"Champagne?"_

 _"Yes, of course." He places the delicate glass into her hands, the stem the thinnest she'd ever seen. "Thank you." She studies him silently for a second, letting the bubbling liquid fizzle down her throat. He appears to be doing the same. She wanders briefly how it had come to this, they were always so relaxed at work but since the announcement of this ball Cora realised that there had been a tense atmosphere to even that, he couldn't have been wanting to ask her for all that time? No, no, he couldn't have done. She was merely the secretary he'd just felt sorry for and meekly realised he couldn't let her go alone._

 _"I ought to speak with a few of the investors, and then perhaps before my speech we could dance?" His hand taps agitatedly at his glass and Cora queries her judgement again, maybe he had really been waiting to ask her._

 _The first two gentleman acknowledge her briefly before delving into intricate discussions with Robert, she follows most of it and is amazed how much she admires Robert as he talks, nodding along with his thoughts, she'd never seen him talking business before but it made her realise how good at it he was._

 _The third gentleman looks her up and down just as Robert had that first morning. Robert squirms beside her trying to turn 'Gary' over to the business begging to be discussed._

 _"Tell me Crawley, she's not your usual, where did you pick her up?" Cora feels her cheeks flame and her eyes close pushing away the threatening tears. The words hit harder than anything had for months on the doubt, the trembling doubt, that she was nothing more then a pretty face for every third man to want to claim._

 _"Gary, I think you've drunk too much champagne." Cora is grateful that Robert tires to dissolve the situation but it doesn't change how uncomfortable she feels. The dress suddenly seems to stick to her, the silver on her jewels hot in the light and burning her skin._

 _"I don't drink Crawley, you know that as well as I. No, this Miss Levinson is a new area of business for you, I'm impressed." The use of Robert's surname makes her shudder, Simon had done that, talked to everyone in this slang fashion._

 _"Gary, our deal depends solely on my coughing up the money for your project does_ it not?"

" _Yes Craw-"_

 _"Well then, I suggest you speak more suitably of Miss Levinson. She is my secretary and since she's only been in the job three months I offered to accompany her to this event. That is all. Now, if you will excuse us." She can't help but feel grateful somewhere deep inside for Robert's morals. Simon used to laugh with the men that called him 'Bricker' so affectionately and well, she was sure now that they probably laughed at her._

 _Robert's hand presses into her back, each individual digit asserting pressure just below her bra. Her body tenses, a natural reaction after all these months, to a man touching her from behind. But she quickly relaxes as he leans into her his hand falling to the hip furthest from the side which his body presses._

 _It happens quite quickly then, the music changes to a three four waltz she recognises. His hand slips the clutch from her own and passes it to a person on his other side- Bates as it turned out. His hand fills the place the honeycomb purse had occupied, his body directly in front of her._

 _"Can you waltz?"_

 _"In theory, yes, I've never actually...but, I'm told the man is the leader. So if I go wrong, we'll blame you, how about that?" She doesn't know why she chooses that moment to joke. But the honest truth was she was uncomfortable, with what she'd just heard, waltzing, and the crowd who's eyes she could feel, but she knew how to tease her new boss so she'd taken the chance._

 _"I have a secretary who knows her business, obviously. But, you needn't worry about the dancing. Aside from dear Mama, I'm the only one here who actually knows how to waltz. When I start a waltz everyone else leaves the floor." It's at that moment she glances around her, they were alone a few metres from the centre of the room, his hand creeping slowly across her back. He places her hands in the right places as she lets her gaze drift around the room again, the faces of the people blurring, disappearing. She was beginning to feel isolated and helpless, trapped beside a man she barely knew in a strange friendship that she could feel slipping away._

" _Robert, I can't-"_

 _"You can." His voice is by her ear, his right hand sliding down her arm to hold her hand. "You need to be told you're amazing, because you've lost that belief in yourself. I'm telling you you can Cora because I know this is well within your grasp. One step at a time I'm determined to rediscover the Cora that's deep within you." She doesn't reply, and he says no more, just takes a step forward as hers moves back, he hadn't even had to tell her which foot because she did know how to waltz. She'd done it a thousand times._


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Just a quick thank you for all the reviews. I think I've thanked all that I can on PM so I just wanted to thank 'Anon Moose' and the other couple of guests that have left reviews. They mean a very great deal and I love reading everyone's speculations!

This chapter is big regarding the 'past' section, hope you enjoy and please review!

* * *

 _The applause goes up around him and he briefly chuckles, his speech hadn't even been that wonderful, it had been good yes, that being said it was obviously the drink that had heightened the usual steely looks and shrewd eyes that inhabited most of his colleagues and investors at any other time other than the annual Establishment ball._

 _But he's not trying to find any of those investors, his eyes scan the room frantically for the face he's searching for as his mother steps forward to claim the microphone. He spies her just as his mother finishes her very short tribute._

 _He freezes in place for a second as all the crowd turn back to their previous conversations. Cora doesn't though, her eyes fall his way and she dips her head, we fingers twiddling with the pendent resting around her throat. It was silver with a fairly large scarlet stone which he supposed was either ruby or garnet. A ring of the same setting had rested on her finger, and small conservative drops fell from her ears to match. The dress was red, the skirt had a full look, in a style he thinks his sister would call a 'dancers,' clinched in firmly at the waist. It falls to her knees her toned legs a picture beneath it. The bodice was in a loose fifties style, with a minimal little drop between the cups on her chest. It scoped quite low on her back, only just, he reckoned covering her bra. It had the typical, fairly thick straps common of the style that perched on her delicate shoulders. The whole look couldn't have been more perfect on any other woman, Cora had the dark hair, bright eyes and the complexion, despite it being so pale, to be able to carry off the dress without looking swamped. Robert reckoned she could also have worn the red lipstick to match but she hadn't to which Robert only supposed she'd felt too nervous to._

 _He struggles through the throng of people he hadn't yet spoken to, each of whom were each pestering at his sides, tapping him on shoulders. Many were women- the wife's of many of his investors- whom he didn't really know, but they knew him, needless to say most were over forty and struggling through hormones._

 _Cora awaits him on the other side, facing away from him busy talking to Anna, someone at the party she did know, they worked fairly closely as she was Bates' secretary. He slides an arm gently around her waist and it gives him a rush when she jumps a little and a rosy hue colours her cheeks, just like it had earlier._

" _Do excuse me Anna but I need to tear Cora away." Anna leaves them and Cora looks up at him a sense of annoyance on her features._

 _"I was just getting into talking with her and now you're dragging me away. If you weren't my boss I'd be very angry indeed." He can tell she's teasing, her eyes sparkling over at him from beneath her lashes._

 _"Thankfully I am your boss which means I can capture your attention all the time. Tonight, it means I can dance with you." He's leaned over her again and Robert reluctantly deprives himself of the perfume that wafts from her hair and shifts away. He found her awfully captivating and it was difficult to focus at work since he'd moved his desk. But tonight, oh tonight it was so difficult with her looking so stunning and finally, finally after goodness knows how many weeks of putting off asking her, not wanting to upset her delicate worries, they were here. It was quite something to appear at an event with the arm of the most beautiful woman in the room on his arm. With any other woman he'd ask her back with him tonight but he couldn't, she'd take it the wrong way. Robert didn't know what had happened to her, but this man, from what he had gleaned had hurt her very much, mentally at least. He hoped, he hoped so very much who ever he was hadn't physically harmed her and my, if he had and he ever met the bastard he'd beat him to pulp. Cora deserved a lot, Robert wanted to give it to her but the problem was tempting her into accepting it._

 _In less than an hour, thoughts of Cora and a desperation to come out with his intentions swimming in his mind, they leave the party. Everyone important had left and Robert couldn't see the point in hanging around. Business had been for the last few hours, Cora was for the next. He wanted to find out about what had gone on before. He wanted to help her._

 _It's stopped raining- finally, when they pull up outside her house. She doesn't get out the car immediately, her fingers twisting over the clasp of her clutch bag._

 _"That was a lovely evening. Thank you for taking me." She swivels to the door but his hand reaches out and clasped the one still resting on the seat. She looks down at it, sceptically, he does the same. Her fingers flex beneath his grasp and she turns away the door falling open at the demand of her other hand._

 _"I'll-" he drops their joined hands and reaches for the handle on his side. "I'll walk you to the door."_

 _He can hear her refusals from inside the car as he slips around to her side. He doesn't take her hand as he had done earlier. He needed to try and make her feel at ease otherwise he was never going to crack the firm barriers she had set up around herself._

 _They stand on the top step awkwardly, her keys jangle in her hand, her teeth chew at her lip and Robert simply admires her. He tries not to, but the proximity drives him crazy. It brings him back to his senses though._

 _"I'm pleased you enjoyed yourself."_

 _"Yes. I-" she looks at the door and down at her key, he hesitantly slides aside as she slips the key into the lock. The click it makes seems like a thunderbolt crashes down in the strange silence that envelopes them. She enters house and turns in the doorframe, the gentle light form the lamp she'd flicked on illuminating the shades of her hair. They stand the same height now._

 _A piece of hair flipping into her face, glows almost ginger in the light and he reaches forward to capture it between his fingers, gently smoothing it behind her ear. She gulps and looks down as Robert silently curses himself. He was meant to be taking this slowly- she thinks you have slept with every one of your secretaries for crying out loud!_

 _"Robert-"_

 _"Forgive me. I shouldn't have done that. I've made you uncomfortable."_

 _"No. I think, looking back you've been waiting for this night a while." Her eyes close and she takes a steadying breath, she opens the door further. "I have some explaining to do. Coffee?"_

 _She shakes as she walks down the narrow passage. She flicks her heels from her feet to the pile at the bottom of the stairs, he places his beside hers. He traces her steps finding her to his right in the kitchen part of the large room. The kettle already hums in the corner but the tapping of her fingers on the granite surface can still be heard. She's shorter than he's ever seen, never having seen her without heels on. Not that she was at all short, he'd estimate five foot nine- in truth, that was the perfect height for him. She looked shorter though, with her hand shaking as she reaches for the hissing kettle, almost dropping the jar as she tips the coffee into the bottom of the mug._

 _"Milk, sugar?" He can barely make out what she says, her face doesn't turn and he knows full well she's holding back tears, possibly even crying. He flits to her side. Being careful not to touch her._

 _"You sit. Because, I know how you like your coffee. A splash of milk- as much as one of those little cartons from the machine, and one sugar." She dares a glance up at him, Robert finds her eyelashes damp, and he has to cling to the granite as not to reach his hand up and flick them away. He couldn't let her think he was moving in, trying to seduce her. He needed her to open up and this for the moment was the only way. He sees a brief smile too though before her gaze drops and she perches herself on one of the high bar stalls of the central island._

" _He wooed me. He made me think I was the only one. The special one." She starts talking as he buries his face in the fridge searching the door for the milk. He finds it, semi-skimmed, he should have guessed. "I realise now that he had forced me, not violently but with fancy words and cards, flowers and sweet nothings into giving myself to him before I was really ready." Robert isn't sure if she means she accepted his proposal by his 'forcing' or whether she's talking of more intimate things, he doesn't ask; just places the steaming coffee in front of her. Her hands immediately cup it, lifting it to her mouth, holding the porcelain there, burning her lips. The steam billows over her face making it hard to tell if she's crying or whether the steam makes her eyes water._

 _"Six months. That's all it was six months and I was...was no longer who I had been...I was suddenly his toy. He made jolly sure I was no longer innocent. He tempted me into doing everything he liked." So, it was the intimacy. Robert closes his eyes, tipping his head back. He pushes back the tears, pushing with them the feelings that would give him away. It explained everything. The way she'd acted at the interview, calculating whether he wanted more than just a secretary. It explained tonight, why she'd freaked out at his touch- she'd found it slightly threatening, to have him so close, leaning over her. He can hear her gentle sobs in the background of his thoughts._

 _"Cora perhaps...this is hard for you-"_

 _"No. I want to finish." She gulps harshly and for the first time she lowers the mug, her eyes finding his. "He proposed soon after and gloated about how I must be the only woman to ever walk down the aisle these days having only slept with one man." Robert swallows harder than she had. So, this man was her first, and at this moment, last boyfriend. He was going to be on somewhat of an uphill struggle, yet, he knew, staring into her eyes that he'd made it along way already. She was trusting him with her story and surely trust was going to be the biggest problem for her. "I thought it sweet for a while. I perhaps might say I was content for a while. And then, I started hearing things, things that I'd heard before but ignored, passed them off as gossip. I followed him one day, four months ago yesterday actually. He visited another house, another woman. I spoke to her after he left. She knew of me, she was the mistress she said for his...his ple-"_

 _"Cora-" he reaches his hand across the table. Taking hers. Letting her tears fall messily onto them, the black of her eye makeup appearing on his hand._

 _"She was married. Her husband knew. She said she wasn't the only one, that there were women at work, on a router almost, of the days she wasn't free. She described me as just another one but I was the one with the gold and the family so I was allowed to be his wife." Robert didn't think, or rather hoped, this kind of thing didn't go on anymore. But in the upper classes of society where marriage was still often of social importance for work it did. He knew of cases in his circles, mainly of men over fifty suddenly bored of their wives. But for a man the age Cora's boyfriend must have been, it sounded horrendous._

 _She lifts the coffee to her mouth taking some tremendously large gulps for the temperature it still is._

 _"I don't think there's much for me to say. I'm pleased you think me eligible enough for your secret. I'm pleased you trust me."_

 _"I do. Very much. I didn't even tell my parents, they'd found out about by the time I had and suggested I move away for a while, break the engagement. I never told them I knew why they'd said it." Robert tightens his hold on her hand, the measure of what she'd just done really hitting home._

 _"I want to help you, if you'll let me." He'd said it, the ball was in her court because they both knew; they knew that his offer wasn't just an offer of dinner sometime. He was proposing to all intents and purposes a marriage, a forever lasting relationship. He had to be, otherwise he wasn't going to help her, he would merely be setting her up for another relationship that confused her and made her feel inadequate._

 _"Robert, I don't think-"_

 _"Cora. I'm fully aware of the price I will pay if I get this wrong. The price is your life, your future. If I mess up you'll be lost forever. But, I want to discover you, who the woman is behind all these barriers you've set up to protect yourself from this man. I think I can and I think so, because I want to. I want to know Cora. And I promise one thing now, you call all the shots. You're always to tell me if you don't like something, if you don't want to do something. I will always wait for your word." His mother would say he was being a total idiot, getting caught up in something just for a girl but someone he couldn't go through this world without feeling like he'd achieved something. Work was just work, it he could bring Cora back to the woman she was meant to be he'd die a happy man._

 _She chews at the inside of her lip, then her finger dances over her chin. Her nails slide between her teeth a couple of times, her gaze always fixed on him._

 _"When I first met you. I anticipated a buffoon. An idiot who had money growing on trees and every woman in the block at his disposal. You're not like that, I've learnt that. I want a life. I want to forget him. But-"_

" _It will be a slow process Cora. But I'm willing to try."_

 _"Trying won't be enough though. Trying and failing makes me worse of." Her shout seems to fill the room as she tosses the mug into the sink. "Yet I've trusted you this far." Her words are a whisper, the tears accumulating in the corners of her eyes as she turns back to face him. "You're the man for the job, if there ever is to me one in my life." He refrains from reaching up and hugging her, or even, as he so wishes kissing her gently on the cheek. But he takes her offered hand cupping it in his as he stands his other fingers reaching up and wiping the smudges from her face._

* * *

The music is so different to how it had been that night but it hadn't stopped his thoughts from dawdling back over heartbreak, and the looks on her face. Cora been quiet and reserved all morning and then suddenly something had changed. She'd stopped worrying about Sybil dangling her legs over the edge of the catermeran, the rest of her body lounging on the netting. Cora had let that all pass since their second stop at another secluded bay, and now on the return trip was embracing the Caribbean songs.

Her hips twisted faster than a professional dancers, her toes pushing into the decking to keep her steady. She was wearing more than the Latin dancers from Strictly that he was thinking about though, having blatantly refused to remove her top and skirt to reveal the swimming costume she had beneath.

Her shoulders shimmy with his own her laugh filling the air as the music stops and she falls against him, his arms circling her waist. She takes his hand her grin faltering slightly as she glances to their left. Mary was watching. Not that it's Mary he notices.

The gentleman sitting on the steps leading to the back of the boat, his eyes trained firmly on Cora is who he spots. His gaze seems to be permanently fixed and Robert feels marginally queasy- how long had he been watching? For all Robert knew he could have been watching them the whole time, safely sheletered out of their direct view from the front of the boat.

"Poor Mary. I feel like we should have invited Matthew." He turns his attention back to her, and realigns his composure. There was no point dwelling on the man. Cora had moved to the bar handing him the traditional 'rum punch' that had been on offer in every port.

"It's good for her to know what it's like to be away from him though. I'm sure it's that more then anything that's finalised her plans." Cora nods, gripping his hand and moving to the steps, leading them back to the deck.

The atmosphere was tremendous, it had been the whole morning. The boat moved just fast enough for adrenaline to course in the blood mingled with the alcohol. The children's laughs filled the deck every so often as the boat crossed the current, the water splashing through the netting and onto them. The music was a constant in the background the crew singing along to all the songs, the area around the bar a dance floor. But it was how relaxed the whole situation was that was so significant, some people sunbathing on the expanse of deck, the ability to move freely from place to place. The five of them had found a position just behind the bar, on the deck, overlooking the nets and the sea. Even out as deep as they were the water was still clear, a bright blue that had been reflected from the exquisite sky.

Cora elegantly places herself on her towel, and he positions himself beside her. She drowns the rest of her beverage which makes Robert chuckle, she had always been a little fond of alcohol when she was out and about. Robert liked it, yes, and drank more regularly than Cora but she did go through phases of indulging herself; today seemed to be one of those days.

"That's your second down in about three gulps, you should slow down."

"Darling, were on a boat. They aren't giving us as much alcohol as you think. They have to be sure if the boat goes over we'll all be alright. Besides this is just Fanta." She has a point Roberthadnt noticed she'd opted for a non-alcoholic choice this time. His hand slips around her back, pushing between the bottom of her top and the waistband of her skirt. She ignores him, but he can tell by the smirk she gives him that she knows exactly what he's doing.

His attention is taken by the scene around him for a while as he sips slowly at his drink. Sybil sat on the opposite side of the boat to him her legs still swinging beneath where she perched on the front, her hair blowing in the wind. She was quite clearly throughly enjoying her holiday, and her school work had not appeared as often as Robert had thought it might. She'd been complaining for weeks that's she'd have lots to do over the Easter break but she'd somehow managed to balance her time so well they barely noticed when her books did appear.

Edith was sat between the netting and Robert's feet her shoulders were hunched, her knees pulled up to her chin- she looked as if she was curled up protecting herself from the cold. She was obviously upset, or worrying about something and Robert briefly wondered if this holiday was going to be filled with the girls each having their own separate troubles. He could guess that Edith was thinking of Michael. She went through these glum patches, where she seemed to be miles away. He and Cora had got used to it and just left her be in those moments. They'd troubled her at first, offered to listen to her thoughts but she'd told them once and it hadn't really worked. As hard as they tried to comprehend what she must feel neither of them could. Michael was fighting for other people's freedom leaving Edith to keep up face at home. Cora had always said to Robert that she secretly hoped Edith and Michael would marry- their position with the publishing company was obviously secure- and have a family. At least, she said, it would give Edith a reason to relish in his absence. Robert knew it wasn't likely. He hadn't told Cora, or Edith for that matter, that he'd found out about Michael's previous wife. He seemed a nice enough man and Robert had learnt to trust him with Edith.

His attention must have been very captivated for him to miss Cora divulging herself of her top. It is not until she hands him the sun cream and asks him to apply some to her back that he knows his mouth fall open just a little. He shuts it when her eyebrows are arched in his direction and letting her sit between his legs he lets the creamy lotion pool on his palm before slathering it onto her back. She shivers for a second, the temperature of the liquid obviously confusing her skin.

"You look beautiful." It's only when she's stood before him, the swimming costume finally making sense to him that he remarks such a thing. It had a pattern like that on a turtles shell each of the sections a shade of blue or green. But it was the cut of the swimsuit that was significant. It was essentially a bikini joined together at the front with a section of left over fabric stretching from between the cups of her bikini and the waistband of the pants section. With Cora's tiny figure it was stunning. She wanders to Sybil on the netting, her laugh filling the air a moment later when she get coated in water. Robert laughs as he watches, all set to go and join her, when Edith catches his gaze.

"Are you sure you're alright Edith?" She's still hunched over, her face buried in her knees.

"Just trying to keep the breeze off my face." It was quite windy particularly now they'd changed direction but he knew she was lying.

"Edith. I know we find it hard to understand. But, we do want to help, to be able to support you."

"Are you disappointed?" Robert doesn't fathom her, but she carries on. "That I didn't go to university and meet some man that had a good job. That I'm not married-"

"Edith. Everyone's life is different. And as for Michael I like him very, very much. And I'm so proud of the work you're doing. The magazine, it suits you."

"So, you're not disappointed in how dull I am?"

"You're far from dull Edith. You have a decent career and a lovely gentleman. What more do you want that makes you think I'm disappointed?"

"Marriage?"

"That comes with time Edith. Your mother and I didn't just decide it, we thought about, discussed it. By that time, we were sure. And that's what matters being sure, and over the moon at the thought." She smiles meekly up at him, her teeth biting at her lip, there was something troubling her and Robert couldn't put his finger on it.

"What about children, did you discuss that?"

"Yes we had before we married and then we did again before Mary. But then she was the first. You were less planned but still wanted. Sybil had been a long time in the waiting." He and Cora had always wanted four children: two a couple of years apart and then another two six or so years younger. Well, it hadn't quite worked like that. Mary and Edith had, but Sybil had arrived a whole three years after they'd started trying for a third, and the fourth had just never happened. "To be honest. None of that worked out how we thought. But your mother and I got on so well it never mattered. We love you girls. And that's what's important."

"At least you talked about it Michael and I never have." It's something in what she says then, her tone and the sense of regret that goes with it- as if it's too late. That makes him think back on what he saw yesterday Edith massaging her hands at her stomach. But she couldn't be? No, no be must be mistaken.

"And that would be a problem because-"

"Well...I...there's always a chance he might not come back." Robert doesn't push her. He might have made the wrong assumption. She could well just be worried, like Mary about how her love life was developing. Why, at twenty, he could not fathom. He'd still been flirting with unsuitable secretaries at twenty. He supposed women were different, they had an instinct for a family that men didn't find until later. He'd have to ask Cora.

"He might not. But there's a good chance he will return."

"But it's not one hundred percent. How can you plan a future when the future is in doubt?" That brought back some memories, some reminders of the past. He and Cora had built a future when the outcome of their relationship, and Cora's recovery was in doubt.

"You can. Ask your mother. We did."

"Neither of you was about to die, I hardly think your future was uncertain."

"Not about to be shot perhaps, but your mother was already wounded when she met me. She'd had a bad relationship. A very bad relationship." He doesn't say anymore, leaving her sat on the decking as he wanders to Cora. It wasn't his story to tell.

* * *

Cora had been waiting for him to mention that he'd noticed the man even though, in all honesty she was hoping he'd forgotten him- she'd certainly been trying to. He'd stared an awful lot when they'd been on the boat that morning and Cora had the eerie sense of recognition. She hadn't taken much notice at the beginning, he was at the other end of the boat. But when he'd inched forward to watch her dance, that had been odd and she thought he was familiar. She hadn't been able to see his eyes, he'd been wearing sunglasses and his hair had been well covered by a hat. But his height and stature had been unique, and difficult to forget. Yet she couldn't place who he was, or from where. But they had met before. So when Robert loops his arm around her back as they wander up the gangplank back onto the ship and they have a giggle about he man on the check in service whom obviously rather likes Sybil, despite being twice her age, and then he mumbles against her skin that every man knows when a woman is taken she can't help but glance around her. He wasn't there.

"Really, every man knows when a woman is not there's to have? I don't think some men do." The man swipes her card and hands it back to her, she slips it gently into her bag. She was thinking of Simon when she said that, not that Robert knew he was a Simon, she'd always refused to tell Robert his name, scared that he'd try ad track him down.

"Not all perhaps. But I think when they see me they know you're off limits." She rolls her eyes at that, leaning against him as they ascend the stairs to the upper decks where buffet lunch awaits.

"To an outsider that would make you seem the most bigheaded man alive."

"Why? Because I'm not really handsome enough for you, or clever enough?" He sounds marginally annoyed and Cora takes his hand as they turn with the staircase.

"You're excessively handsome and very smart. You couldn't be in charge of Downton Establishment if you weren't at the top of your game."

"Um, and I love how you've fallen so effortlessly into pretending I have talent despite the fact I don't." This was what he was like, so negative about himself so much of the time, it had been her at the beginning of their relationship and now it always seemed to be him.

"I wouldn't have three children if you didn't have some talent my love." He chuckles gently into her ear at that, her one whisper having reached nobody's ears but his own. His arm slips behind her back, the warmth spreading beneath her thin top that now, back on the air conditioned ship, seemed all too thin.

"I'll be up to lunch in a moment, I just want to ask something at reception." Sybil's voice wafts quickly passed them as they round the bend to the stairs leading to the fifth deck, her body already racing away from them.

"She's definitely got some secret." Robert looks sceptically after her and Cora just shakes her head.

"Let her. She's fourteen, I doubt the secret is harmful." She'd wished she'd been that happy at fourteen, so carefree and enjoying a family holiday. In fact, she wishes she'd even had a family holiday. It explained quite frankly the whole reason she'd given up work when the children had come along. She had wanted a bond with them, one she and her parents had never had. She'd been lucky, she knew, married to a man who was earning enough for her to take the time off. She'd had jobs in between, working for mainly law firms- just as a secretary mind you, there was no chance of her ever wanting to get involved in law like the rest of her family had. Now Sybil had reached fourteen though she was desperate for a new adventure. The situation with Robert's secretary Jane had briefly distracted her, made her doubt herself for the first time since she'd said 'yes' to allowing him to help her from her panic over relationships all those years ago. She'd overreacted, she knew she had but it seems to have knocked Robert into line again. But that had made her realise that she wanted another life now, away from the girls, the house. She wants a job, only a part time one so she could still manage the house and Sybil, but she definitely did want a purpose beyond those that she had upheld for the last twenty-one years.

"I was concerned about Edith today." Robert's comment pulls her from the reverie that had consumed her to the end of the luncheon queue and to the window table for two he'd selected. Mary and Edith had beaten them upstairs and sat on another such table on the other side of the room, leaving the two of them to sit alone for the first meal all holiday. Glancing at them, and seeing how deeply they are chatting together, Edith even breaking a smile into her glum expression occasionally. They were never ones for getting on, so to see them like this was quite remarkable.

"I have reason to agree, look at them." She jabs her fork in their direction. "They never get on like that."

"No, and she said something funny today. About how her and Michael haven't talked about children. She seemed to think they should have done." Cora couldn't help but feel this holiday was turning into something out of a soap. She seemed to be spending the entire time trying to uncover the secrets of her daughters. "It sounded like she thought she was ill prepared. But why she'd think that..."

"Let's try not to worry about it." It was easy to say, but not so easy to do. In truth she worried on and off for the rest of the day, unable to lie on the sun lounger or swim lengths of the pool without glancing at her middle daughter and wondering if there was something wrong. Edith had always been a worry, sandwiched between her two very outgoing sisters she'd had a tendency to get lost. Then she'd chosen Michael and Cora had worried still more, could she cope being the girlfriend and possibly eventually the wife of a soldier?

Standing before the mirror that night, her hair dripping water and spreading the scent of strawberry around her she's surprised to hear footsteps approaching from the living room area, Robert always left her alone to change when they cruised; he took the time to read and she preferred to relax while she dressed, rather than watching him in the mirror- he was a terrible distraction.

Two glittery red shoes step over the doorframe. The heel something that Cora would never wear, far too high. But then Mary had always been one for making a statement. Her dress was in the same vein, three times more glitzy than it needed to be but the cut was fairly suitable. She positions herself on the bed neatly avoiding the green dress Cora had chosen to wear.

"I'll cut to the chase, I haven't got long, only until Edith gets out the shower. She's sworn me to secrecy but the truth is I think you should know." The quivering woman from a few days previous had disappeared replaced by the efficient Mary with a degree in law. The irony was Cora didn't feel as though she was about to hear anything she hadn't already concluded. "Edith is pregnant and Michael doesn't know." The baby she was expecting but Michael not knowing, that she wasn't expecting.

"Why ever not?"

"You're not shocked about her being pregnant? Out of marriage and all?" It was true, she and Robert had always been traditional. She'd refused to live with him permanently until they were married- it had been their first fight as a matter of fact. It was a tradition that had been quite apparent to their children.

"Mary, what's happened has happened. And no, I'm not particularly shocked to hear she's pregnant I have been pregnant three times myself, I know the signs." Mary only nods, her fingers tracing the floral silks on the mauve bedspread.

"She hasn't said because she's so worried you'll kick off about the marriage thing."

"That's doesn't explain why she hasn't told Michael."

"I thought that, but she said it was because he'd then propose straight out, concerned about the wrath of his parents-in-law and she wants his proposal to be real, not something she feels like she's forced him into." Cora has to bite her tongue not to cry. Both her daughters seemed so caught up in marriage just as she had been at that age. Only, she'd been engaged to a man she'd rather forget; stuck in a relationship that was destined to fail. She dearly hopes her daughters aren't both about to head that way.

"No, well, I know your father and I have always been very honest wth you girls about what we would expect but we are both able to appreciate that sometimes that's not possible." The truth was Robert had never agreed with her opinion of not living together, or having children before marriage. Neither had she had any scruples until Simon, and then her difficulty to trust anyone had weighed her down. She'd made the harsh decisions to protect herself more than anything else and because it had worked out so well for the two of them it had always been the way they'd advised their girls.

"This is about this past you've kept so hidden, isn't it?"

"Not really. The advise your father and I have given is just what worked for us. Besides, he was a man being watched at all moments, he had to appear to be traditional."

"By marrying an American!" It was something she heard all the time, Mary in particular was one hundred percent English regardless of her genetics. "And one who was his secretary, yes, that really kept him out the papers." Cora wasn't about to argue and thankfully Robert appears in the doorway his eyes drifting over her frame and the opened zip that runs down her back. He pulls it to the top, but she can see in the mirror that his gaze is fixed firmly on Mary.

"Actually, it kept me out the papers very well. The press got fed up when I appeared with her so many times." Cora's personally amazed she heard what he was saying the largest part of her mind was concentrated on his fingers on her back, pressing gently at the ridges of her spine through the thin chiffon. His breath tickles at her neck as he gently brushes the last dampness from her hair and winds it upon her head into a surprisingly smart bun. His fingers still seem to tease at her scalp though and she tries hard to focus on Mary's appearance. But her daughter stands, obviously realising the apparent oblivion of her mother and leaves, a promise to meet them upstairs her last flutter of existence.

"What was it she came to discuss?" Cora contemplates telling the truth but now really wasn't the moment it would take too long and quite honestly, Edith obviously didn't want them to know.

"Only Matthew again." He seems to accept, his fingers slipping the last pin into her hair and drifting to her shoulders. She studies his gaze in the mirror and she finds it strangely surreal when she watches him plant a kiss on the bare curve between her neck and shoulder, his eyes still locked firmly with hers in the mirror.

"You're beautiful." She blushes and looks down.

"You're getting very romantic on this holiday. I don't know what I'm going to do when we get back to reality."

"You could meet me for lunch every other day. That would be nice. And perhaps occasionally organise my desk how you used to. I still maintain you were the best secretary I ever had. You had excellent morals, standards and well, excessively good taste." She rolls her eyes at the twinkle in his eye and retrieves her clutch from the bed.

"I suppose you mean in men."

"Your dress sense is quite exceptional too." But his cheeky grin tells her all she needs to know. Thoughts of Edith seem to dissipate as he takes her hand and dips his lips to her own.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Thanks to all the guests for their reviews, I think I got messages to the rest of you! This chapter ended up being a long one, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

The hustle had been horrendous. For a small fishing village it had been overpowering to step from the port and find so many people pushing and shoving through the narrow streets. To stops and consult the map was impossible. They just kept walking, Cora's hand was clutched in his and they took occasional opportunities to check the three girls were still in tow.

Fifteen minutes, that's what the gentleman at Destination Services had said: fifteen minutes to reach the tropical gardens. As it was they had been walking for half an hour and still hadn't made it out the town, let alone near to the bottom of the hill where the gardens sat.

The stench of fish was the worst thing, and the general waste that litters the streets. It was fascinating, he thought, that the islands were all so different. Some were designed entirely for the tourist industry. And St Vincent, well, they hadn't changed a thing. They were the bustling fish market, the whole population out early to buy fresh food and attend the church service. It was odd Robert thought that people complained so much about the lack of gift shops and tourist facilities, he disagreed, the place shouldn't change merely to please a bunch of people that lived thousands of miles away. The crowds were daunting he admitted, when they knew where they were headed and you did not, but they were friendly enough almost all mumbling a good morning.

What Robert found entirely the worst point of the whole situation was the heat. He disliked swimming but the heat he detested. All he wanted to do was jump straight in the cold swimming pool onboard. Cora had slathered them in sun cream before they'd left and it never seemed to help, the sweat getting trapped beneath the oil resulting in an uncomfortable sticky sensation all over. It was better than being burnt, but at this moment he only meekly agreed with that- the only consolation of not being burnt was that he could do all sorts of things he shouldn't with Cora which if his shoulders or back were hurt would be majorly painful.

The crowds seem to suddenly disappear from around them, the church with its brick walls painted completely in white, the small tower appearing above the roof, with the rusted bell visible within, stands before them. Cora immediately strides over to assess the architecture, Mary to read the nearby graves, Sybil to the small garden off to one side. Edith falls hard against the wall, panting desperately. Robert wasn't an idiot, he abandons the map he was easing open in from of him (he'd was sure the church was at the bottom of the road that lead to the gardens) and strides quickly to her side, moving her hair swiftly to one side as she's sick.

"Sorry," he hands her a tissue to wipe her face, and she looks up at him imploringly, a sadness in her eyes. "It was the fish smells, and then all the fast walking."

"Your mother was just the same."

"What do you mean?" Robert looks at her, watches as she moves away from his protective grasp. It all made sense though, how caught up she'd been, the funny comments from the day before and now, well, some morning sickness brought on by smells.

"Edith," he glances over his shoulder and seeing Cora and Mary still suitably distracted continues, "I've watched a woman give birth three times, I've seen all the symptoms of pregnancy three times over. You were rather up against it, if you were trying to fool me." She takes a steadying breath, tears accumulating in the corners of her eyes.

"Don't tell Mum. Not yet. I need to tell Michael." She straightens up wiping another tissue quickly over her eyes.

"You haven't-"

"I don't want him to propose just because I'm pregnant. Which is what he will do when you and Mum have always been so 'marriage then children.'" She imitates Cora's American accent very well and Robert swallows so not to laugh. But Edith chuckles anyway. "I'm sorry, I thought the sickness had passed months ago, but the fish-"

"You're quite far along then."

"Four, almost five months." He nods, a strange realisation that he was to be a grandfather in less then half a year. He takes her hand and they walk slowly to the other two.

"We won't tell Mum yet. But you must know Edith, neither of us will be angry that you're not married. Personally, I'm more annoyed you're making me a granddad. And I mean, come on, even you have to admit your mother is hardly grandma age." Edith smiles and leans against him.

"I only ask we walk a little slower."

"Of course." He grabs hold of Cora's waist making her jump as they wander passed. Sybil comes running around the far side of the church- she had her mother's ability to deal with the humidity with flying colours. Mary beckons them over to a nearby grave.

"This is ever so sweet. It's the gravestone of a woman, written by her husband. They had nine children." Cora runs her hand lovingly over the top of the stone and Robert watches with some amusement. She had always wanted a house full of children.

"Your mother wanted nine children." Mary rolls her eyes and Sybil starts exclaiming about how nice that would have been. Cora turns to look at him, a naughty grin on her face.

"He says that, which of course isn't true, but he wasn't exactly opposed to the idea of having a house full of little ones." She sidles up to him, wrapping her small arm around his back, and tilting her chin to him. "Although," her voice is whispered trying to protect the innocence of their three daughters no doubt, despite the fact one is pregnant and the other desperate to be married, "whether that was because he wanted children, or because he just wanted me naked more, I couldn't tell you." He kisses her temple, the mirth in her eyes spreading to his own.

"Both, definitely both." He can see Mary's disgusted face over the top of Cora's curls but he doesn't think she'd heard what they'd said, her eyes were trained on the way Cora held him, her fingers creeping over the waistband of his shorts. He eases from her hold, eager to get to the botanical gardens so Edith can get back to the ship and lie down. She desperately needed rest in her condition.

The heat is all consuming as they ascend, very slowly, and not even at Edith's stipulation along the hard concrete roads that lead supposedly to the gardens. They almost turn back twice but Sybil's crazy games keep them walking. She runs ahead- which made Robert feel infinitely older than the thought of being a grandad- picks out a point she wants them to get to and then no sooner does one of them make it changes it to a point further in the distance. They were still chuckling about her as they staggered up the staircase into the waft of air conditioning that erupted for the small reception. A conveniently positioned settee allows Edith some long needed respite, Mary collapses beside her. Sybil and Cora seem quite unfazed and start asking the lady for prices. Robert quickly passes the last of his water to his middle daughter as she begins to choke. He observes as Mary helps Edith to drink, gently rubbing her back. Mary glances up at him, her eyes wide, wide with knowing. So, it was just Cora and Sybil that had no idea of Edith's condition.

"Are you enjoying your holiday Sir?" The woman's rich English cuts his thoughts short. He reaches immediately for his pocket, Cora had fixed what tickets they needed and he was being called on to pay.

"Very much, how much do I owe?" She smiles widely and Sybil and Cora giggle at the edge of the desk. Obviously they'd guessed that would be the first thing he asked. In truth it was habit, he always paid but then he was surrounded by women who always seemed to be in need of something.

"Twenty dollars." That just proved so overpriced the ships excursions were. True on the trip a coach trip to the gardens would have saved them the walk. But to cost sixty pounds for a coach and the entrance into the gardens was clearly overpriced. They'd only walked a few miles.

Out the other side of the kiosk the gardens await. Robert knew it couldn't all have been this simple though, waiting is a collection of young men- tour guides. They immediately start bombarding them with the sweet smell of the hedge beside them. By rubbing a leave between your fingers a perfume is produced. They always say people trying to sell you something have a tendency to stick tightly to one person. It was in moments like this he always kept a stern eye on his girls. Edith wasn't a target today, looking far to pale and ill for the men to fall for the usual blonde hair that was such a rarity in their own country. Mary was huddled too close to Edith to be a problem and Sybil, well, she'd never been a problem, not even in Egypt. She scowled, and usually tossed anything handed to her back to the person, she'd told one man, when she must have been only six to 'stop being an idiot, I have no money.' Naturally then, while assessing all his daughters he'd forgotten his wife. Cora was chatting intently to a young man, he couldn't have been much older than Mary. The man holds the leaves to Cora's nose and she inhales deeply. Robert wants to go and drag her away but she was obviously enjoying it, asking him a question about the red flowers sprouting from the bush. Robert follows the girls up the gentle hill leaving Cora to follow in a moment or two. The truth was he knew he was immensely jealous, more jealous then he had any reasons to be. He was half her age, lived thousands of miles away from them but yet he could still have an influence on Cora. He supposed the problem was that nobody had ever had an influence on Cora. She'd always been so curled up in her past and then him. And the worst of it was, this man, well, unlike the people that harass you in most places, they obviously genuinely knew a very great deal about the plants in the garden.

The smells that surround the four of them as they advance towards the shade just ahead, leaving Cora to wangle her own way out of the man's pretty words, are excessively diverse. The grass has its own unique scent, the sweetness mixing with the tropical rainwater. The flowers have fragrances that can be distinguished even in the mass of them there are.

Sybil starts exclaiming about a small lizard like creature she's spotted on the branch of the tree and takes a collection of pictures. Robert couldn't help her smile. She had done the same at the botanical garden in Guadeloupe, only there it had been the hummingbirds that she'd strifed to capture the likeness of. She'd succeeded eventually, producing the blue and black hummingbird against a vibrant emerald and lemon background.

A hand slips into his own as he watches Sybil. He doesn't need to turn to know it's Cora. Her hand was one he knew well enough.

"I would say you were jealous, running off like that just because I was talking to another man."

"I wasn't jealous. But he was trying to persuade you into taking a tour with him just so he could charge goodness knows what at the end."

"I'm fully aware of that." She leans against his side, pulling him gently out of his steadfast gazing at his daughter.

"The girls will be fine. Let's go for a walk." Edith and Mary were reclining on a low wall in the shade and it was apparent they both wanted a rest before they explored. Sybil was capable of exploring on her own and Robert knew full well she'd keep her sisters or he and Cora well in her sight.

She immediately dives off into the various flowers, exclaiming over colours or fragrances, and dragging him to her to sniff the scents. Robert spent more time assessing Cora herself, or the layout of the gardens. The fragrant centre with the small pond which drifted out to mere trees surrounded by a messy hedge, houses just beyond. It was the sounds more than anything which encompassed the tropical feel. There was an aviary on the higher side of the gardens, filled with parrots. It had to be parrots because the squawking was constant and deafening. It was strange though after a few moments the screeching becomes less apparent, it continues, but his mind is too busy thinking of other things, mainly Cora.

She definitely wasn't old enough to be a grandmother which it appeared she was going to be in a few months. Robert chuckles at the thought of Cora pushing the little one through the town while Edith was at work and everyone thinking it was hers.

"What are you chuckling about?"

"Nothing."

"It can't have been nothing." She's staring at him with her face tilted to one side, her eyebrows raised. He hears Edith behind them whispering with Mary and he can't bring himself to say anything to Cora. It wasn't his secret, and Michael needed to know so Edith knew where she stood.

"I was thinking about something Bates had said to me once. He was fed up with his lack of a girlfriend. And as Bates often is, he went all philosophical saying that the problem with women was the pretty ones were often off limits and those that were appealing, and I think he meant that in a purely sexual manner, were ditsy."

"Yes Robert, I've heard this a million times...you then said that I had been beautiful but not off limits and far from ditsy. But why it makes you laugh-"

"The smug feeling I felt then suddenly washed over me. I'm a very lucky man." She smiles and takes his hand.

* * *

Her feet sting. Burn. The leather rubs and burns. The strap scratches and stings. A wet stickiness forming beneath the right one, spreading along the bend of her foot. Her toes scrunch in pain as she flops on the bed.

There's a smoothness then, a careful touch that electrifies her blood, even the streak that is no longer hers but pooling quickly over the hardness that protect her toes feels like it stills for a moment. The silky skin runs beneath her toes, gliding over the corse, sharp edges of the dry, dead skin.

There another slash of venom then. Just as she'd got used to the skin, another liquidise added, a dampness. She feels her foot try to slither away from the palm that was holding it in place.

"It's just an antiseptic wipe. Then you better run it under the shower." She thinks she nods, but I truth she's focusing so hard on that voice, those words. She keeps them ringing in her head, anything to take her thoughts from the nerves that were shouting at her from the distant corners of her toes. His voice had always held her in place, always kept her attention fixed firmly on the point in hand. This time it was quite literally his hand. The way it smothered the pain that leaked over her foot. His touch was smother and more gentle than the petals she stroked only that morning at the botanical gardens. His fingers may not be the multicoloured shades of the petals, the hues of oranges and golds never ending on a green background. The lilies that had lined the surface of the pond that had been the centre of the little world. But Robert was her pond, the lilies his smooth fingers working magic over her foot. The truth was they had always worked magic, over all of her skin.

"There, finished. Why don't you go and wash it under the shower? Do you need me to walk you?" She opens her eyes, the pain suddenly at a manageable level, not because it had gone. Oh, it was far from gone, but it had been replaced. Replaced by the notion that she wasn't alone. She had not been alone for a long time. He was here to protect her. He'd vowed that all those years ago, and now, even now, he was still putting it into action. She shakes her head quickly, smoothing her knuckles gently down his cheek.

"I'll be fine." And the truth was she would be, but only once she'd sorted the strange new venom that was threatening to expose her as it coursed through her veins. The water she knew would help. It would distract her, and more importantly rinse away the sweat that seemed to cling to her beneath the layer of sun cream.

The water rushes quickly, like a waterfall. A torrent. But it was just what she needed. Her foot jumps when it lands on the wound but immediately recovers. The water slithers quickly over all the muscles that had been tense, easing out the aches. It doesn't take away the second venom though. The venom that originated purely in desire. It wasn't a toxin at all, only it had felt like it a moment ago when everything had ached and the thought of giving into herself had been the worst idea imaginable. Now the idea had lodged itself she was having a great difficulty letting it go, a great difficulty in letting those desires inside her relax, allowing those muscles to relax themselves.

She focuses her attention upon the stream of water again, the way it was releasing the chemicals that had been suffocating beneath the oil. She feels her head tip back, the water gushing over her hair, and onto her closed eyelids; trying to squeeze between the lashes.

The shift of the curtain is lost in the rush of water, as it trickles slowly over her ears. But the hand on her hips isn't lost, nor is the soft kiss that glances her shoulder.

"You were taking some time. I decided it was probably because you needed some help letting go." She feels a smile tweak at her lips. He'd always known. Always.

"We shouldn't..." But it was a feeble attempt. His touch was already drifting down her sides, turning her in his arms.

She gasps over the cold, the tiles causing a suction with her skin, sticking them together. His pressure works in the same direction rubbing at her hips and her breasts.

The water makes her feet unsteady, her toes trying to curl against the sheeny bottom. But they can't find a hold. The fire building makes her still less sure of her feet. She should have expected it, how many time had they been together just in the last four days of holiday? But the honest truth was she couldn't understand it, she was reaching an age when all of this shouldn't bother her anymore.

His lips pluck the skin on her neck and she's fully aware he's trying to coax her into doing something, anything rather then just stand, unsteady at best, against the wall. She tilts her face, pressing her own lips to the slightly scratchy side of his chin. His face runs in water, and his hair was also darker, at first glance it looked the shade it had been when they'd first met. It was a unique shade, not dark like her own but not the honeycomb of his sister's or Edith's. It was a walnut colour, with hints of chocolate, even from some angles it had glittered with sheens of ginger.

Her fingers stumble through the air, reaching for the curls, the flattened curls. They slip between her knuckles leaving a running trickle of water to her elbows. It was strange, it was just the same as the trail that had smothered her foot earlier but this one wasn't like a thorn, spreading poison, it was soothing and sweet. White not red.

His mouth responds to her touch, inching higher, leaving a sloppy slather of warm taste on her neck, only for the water to wash it away. Not that it manages to remove the heat that seemed to penetrate everywhere else. His knuckles rub hard at the place she can feel the burning most and she clenches her hand firmly in his hair.

There's a dim echo in her ear that had originally been lost to the constant pounding of the water on the acrylic surface at their feet, and the gurgling of the drain as it tries to accommodate the swell, but she heard it now. A long drawn out chortle.

An urge of annoyance surges in her stomach, there was no reason for him to chuckle at her discomfort. A shift of her head and his lips fall wet against her own. She lashes slightly too hard with her tongue, her fingers grazing his shoulders. But he seems to get the message, the gentle hum of approval tickling her mouth. He tasted unique, an earthy home feeling always seemed to accompany his soft lips. Even when he pressed too hard it just served to give her a stab of his infecting texture somewhere that had not had it yet.

Her mouth falls from his, her top lip grazing over his bottom one, his tongue trying to lift it, trying to find a way inside. Her focus had been distracted from his mouth. Her senses had pinpointed his fingers again, the pressure at her usual pant line that was creeping very slowly downwards. Wiping the skin free of water, leaving a burning pattern in its wake. That wasn't the only thing the touch was doing, it was kindling the flame that sat beneath the skin, waiting.

He runs his cheek down the opposite side his lips had trailed up, forcing her chin up. His lips cover hers again. Leaving her breathing shallow, her chest heaving as it fought for oxygen. One of her hands drops down from his neck, tracing the contours of his chest. Feeling the dampness that clung between his chest hair. Whether it was sweat from the humid conditions that were building up in the shower, or just water she didn't know. She didn't care, if felt naughty, to have him stood naked before her in the shower. His lips and hands pleasuring her desperately as she tired not to crumple on the floor. She tweaks a little too hard at his nipples his lips falling free, taking away her fulfilment but allowing her chest the oxygen it needed.

There's some pealing skin that she finds on his back, no doubt the aftermath of the slight sunburn from yesterday. His amusement at her soft appraisal of his skin is apparent when he kisses her once gently, pausing to keep his nose pressed to hers, it was something he always did when he was mildly amused.

His next move drags her thoughts back to the matter at hand, their incensed position of arousal. His fingers flutter over her thigh. Lifting her to sit half on his waist. His skin is sticky from the suncream still washing off and slippery from the water that was still cascading. Her legs slips as soon as he lets it go and she mumbles an apology against his throat.

She feels the suction lessen at the same moment Robert tantalisingly smooths his fingers over the folds of her sex that weren't damp from the shower. She gasps at the contact, her back popping from the wall. Her heel slides between his legs, her hands trashing for his form. Her nails graze it a couple of times before they lay squashed between their stomachs. His arm had encircled her back, saving her the potentially dangerous fall to the acrylic shower base.

She curls her legs around his back, finally adjusting her new position on the floor to one that seemed to scream a release. Robert seemed to agree his fingers making a final descent to where they had been before, working her gently into a stupor of writhing with need.

They moved together, every touch, every move an anticipation of one yet to come. Her body would rise, her hips skimming his, only for him to pull back, ease himself from her hearth in a desperate attempt to tease her. Or at the extension of his fingers over their joining her mouth would already have uttered a moan, his lips lingering just above to muffle it as soon as it began.

There is a soft depletion of air every so often around her head and before long she notes the touch of the tiles across her hair, she was creeping closer to the wall. When the droplets of water slide onto her forehead, ice cold from the white surface she tilts her head back. Robert seems to assume her move is one of pleasure, and pushes harder, his orgasm stiffening to almost its peak within her. She calls out, her eyes closing, forgetting the closeness of the wall. Her head tilts back, crown of her head hitting the surface with a thud that's barely noticeable when diluted by the spraying of the shower and the panting of his name. Even to her, the physical sensation of the bruise is consumed wholly by her release.

It a only as she lies trying to regain her composure, his body laid awkwardly slightly on her right side that she notes his fingers are behind her head, circling over the bruise she knew would appear there. Her nose is buried in his neck enjoying the accelerated throbbing of his pulse.

"It doesn't feel like it's bleeding. How painful is it?"

"It's fine. I didn't really notice. I was otherwise occupied." He chuckles against her eyes and she smiles. This had always been one of the favourite parts of being with Robert. Lying curled with him, in whatever state, his arms protecting her, his lips drifting over her skin and occasionally marking it as his.

She flinches suddenly, her fingers flex away from the place she'd been brushing them, his stomach which he was becoming increasingly self conscious about. The water had still been pelting onto her, it had been maintaining her body temperature, but now it was cooling her down at a rapid rate, they'd obviously turned off their hot water supply. Seeing as there were signs all over their bathroom urging them not to waste water Cora felt slightly bad but then she recalled the details of the last half an hour, this was their holiday. They deserved to live a little.

Robert shifts from beside her, standing to flick the shower off. Cora takes the opportunity to study his physique from this unique view point. She often forgot, she realised what a big man he was. Her lip slips between her teeth, her thoughts returning to years ago, a first time, a blushing Miss Levinson as she admired her boyfriend naked for the first time in the year they'd known each other. She recalls the feeling of marginal dread of her own inexperience.

He swivels to face her, a silence filling the room with the void the shower had left. He appraises her as she does so to him. She briefly wonders which parts of her he's admiring. But her thoughts trail away, the impulses to her brain from her eyes taking over. His broad shoulders, still wet from the shower, his hair tousled all over the place, the little droplets of water 'plopping' onto her toes. His torso different to how it had been then, they were older, he'd definitely changed, but it was no less desirable to her. He'd never been one of those buff superheroes from the movies, he'd had a childish handsomeness that had appealed to her. He'd been a suitable shape for his height and frame. He was, to her, excessively handsome.

He passes a towel to her, helping her gently from the floor. He wraps the towel around her, gently rubbing over her shoulders and back.

"There was something I forgot to say earlier." He swivels her to face the mirror, standing gently behind her, his arms encircling her waist. "I was quite impressed by the way I quite literally toppled you over with my kisses. It's the kind of thing men dream about." She blushes and leans back into him.

"And do you dream about such things."

"Not really. I know I set you aflutter without you physically slipping from my grasp." She shakes her head twisting in his arms.

"And that's not big headed?" His lips brush tantalisingly over her nose and she tries to swallow the burning for his touch that fills her mouth.

"Not when we've made a life long promise to each other. No. It just proves I still plan on keeping the promise." She lets him kiss her softly on the lips, his tongue sliding once over them before he pulls away. She's pleased he does. It wouldn't really do for them to spend every day hidden in their suite. They were on holiday, enjoying the sites and the cruise liner. They could tumble in the linen at home, not that they were ever this relaxed in their routine, Sybil rushing in and out, dinners and conferences. Free time was lacking. She supposed that was why they had been how they had for the past few days; desperate to reconnect and treasure the holiday time. "Now, Lady Grantham, it is time we got changed and dried off." She squeals when he picks her up, leaving her dangling over his shoulder. He chortles as she tries to wiggle herself back to the ground. He throws her on to the bed quite literally and she thrashes her legs when he tries to lie with her.

Their joint laughter fills the room and Cora can't remember a better day in some time. She lets him settle, or rather fall, over her. The second was exquisite; his breath tickling her chin. His fingers prying the towels off of her again; her half chuckle of his name.

Then her nerves kick in. The sting on her foot. She sits up sharply, already sensing the dark trail of scarlet that's sure enough already running down her skin. He's handed her a tissue and she wipes the liquid away.

"I'm not sure why it keeps bleeding. I think we should put a plaster on it."

"I imagined the water probably stemmed the flow before." He delves into her bathroom bag, quickly finding the stash of first aid. "Besides by letting it bleed we know it's freeing me of infection." He tosses the toiletries to her as he stretches the plaster over the cut.

Her heart plummets, spying a familiar packet in the bag, her mind racing with dates. Forty-two days. Forty-two days since her last period, which might not even have been classed as one. She appreciated she was getting older, that her body was changing. She'd had her children now, but she couldn't quite let go of the hope that this would be another few years away. She wanted more of what she and Robert had just had. She wanted to keep him happy.

Her toes flex, the soft dark carpet fibres twitching with them. The bathroom is somewhere in front of her. She couldn't see. The clouding of her vision confusing her. But she heads for the heat. The sauna like room that still seemed to be immersed in the passion of minutes before. Perhaps, she dimly hoped, it would immerse her again. A single tear forges its way down her cheek, curling towards the corner of her lips; to the place Robert so often touched his fingers. She takes a deep breath and flicks in away. It didn't have a place there, that was Robert's place. He would, she knew, still love her, he was after all convinced he was the old and decrepit. She half laughs, sealing the zip on the soaps and sponges, perfumes and toothpaste and placing them back in the cupboard. Pushing her future away, it was the present that mattered.

"Cora!" His bright grin appears at the door, clutching the cruise news in hand. "They're doing My Fair Lady for the theatre show tonight." She smiles broadly, anyone would think he had a strange obsession with that musical from the way he looked at her. The truth was his thoughts were no doubt where hers were; on their first proper date.

* * *

 _Four months. Four. She'd known him for a third of a year. She'd been sat in an office with him for four months. She couldn't remember a pleasanter space of time. Laughing and talking about anything and everything. The first three had been overshadowed by her past but she was trying to push that away as much as possible. Robert had offered to help her and she was letting him. That's what tonight was about, he'd decided that it was time to go out. Together._

 _He'd approached her about it two weeks ago, it had seemed perfectly fine then. But now, sat on the stool in the kitchen, a large glass of her preferred red cold against her fingers she wasn't sure she thought it was._

 _There was something about Robert. Something in the way he treated her, looked at her. It was something that made her feel soft. Her limbs less able to do what she wanted. The red liquid swirls too fast and she feels slightly dizzy. It begins to look unappetising and she pushes it away._

 _The clock ticks annoyingly in the corner and she takes to staring at it. Hoping she can speed up the seconds. Her fingers tap with it just the same as they had the last time he'd been here. She realised with some annoyance that they should have met for dinner before hand, eating alone before a night out hardly seemed appropriate. He'd paid for her ticket to the theatre, and had refused to tell her what they were going to see, and she hadn't even offered him dinner. She could easily have done as she was dying for a roast and she hadn't had one since arriving in England, namely due to it being a large expense when cooking for only one person._

 _Cooking was something she enjoyed, it gave her a certain purpose. And roast was her favourite. The strange panic that seemed to course through her body as the adrenaline worked its way through, mumbling about how the potatoes would be burnt, or the carrots soft, the gravy too watery, it made her work twice as hard to prove her own self wrong. And then the tastes and textures that blended together. The richness of meat with the sweetness of the vegetables and the crunch of the potatoes. She feels herself smile just thinking about it. If tonight went well Robert could come next week for roast dinner. She didn't like to think about the intimacy of him being in her house, probably watching a film with her. She didn't need to worry about that, as she would have with Simon. Robert respected her, he'd told her she was in charge, was allowed to take this as slowly or as quickly as she liked. Besides, if she wanted roast she needed someone to have it with ad Robert was the only person she really knew. Anna was the only other possibility but she would likely be busy with Bates._

 _The doorbell pierces her thoughts and she gulps, he was early. She'd been ready to invite him for roast next Friday and now she was panicking that he had arrived. She felt awfully stupid. Although she realised, as she stumbles to the hall, struggling with the straps on her shoes and them having to half stagger into the kitchen to retrieve her bag, she was nervous. Nervous because she liked Robert, and she did so want his help. Whether she wanted his help because she wanted to just forget Simon, or whether the need to be with him reached deeper than that, she didn't know._

 _She fumbles over the lock, crossing her hands in a situation she hadn't thought was possible. She puffs out a huge sigh of air when the door falls towards her._

 _Then she chews her lip. He was stood on her step clutching a bouquet. They were lilies. Her favourite plant was lilies, he must have remembered her saying so._

 _"I'm sorry, I'm early. I just thought you'll need to put these in water and, yes..." He trails off, his hand itching in his hair. She reaches up and pulls it down._

 _"It's fine. I was all ready, just stalling for time." She ushers him in the door where he immediately follows her to the kitchen-lounge area. "Drink?"_

 _"No, I'm fine." A silence lapses between them as she quickly fills a vase and trims the flowers. She does the tasks quickly but she glances up every so often, after every snip, to look at him. He has his back to her for most of the time, studying her bookcase. His suit was fresh from the dry cleaners she guessed, crease and wrinkle free, it was a silk suit as well, suddenly making her midnight blue, forty pound dress from Debenhams feel inadequate._

 _"You're a fan of art?"_

 _"Yes. It was what I started to study at University. But well-" He turns, obviously sensing the hurdle within that conversation, the past resurrecting itself. He was right. Her dreams had been cut short for an engagement that had also been cut short. She regretted the former, the latter, not at all. She wouldn't be here, with Robert if she'd continued her engagement. And somehow, she knew that being here, with him, was significant. He retraces his steps to her._

 _"You should visit my house. Maybe tomorrow? I have a large collection of books, the Grantham legacy, you might find something you want."_

 _"Tomorrow?" She don't know why she was suddenly so shocked. So dizzy. So desperate to rewind and just forget everything he'd said. And then she makes the conscious leap that her brain had already made subconsciously. Tomorrow was after today. There was only a night separating them, he might think that the night wasn't actually going to separate them._

 _"Yes. If you would like. You could come for lunch, I'll cook." She signs inwardly, heading for the door so he can't see her face, so her burning cheeks are free from his criticism. He wasn't expecting anything. Just another 'date'._

 _"That's sounds wonderful. Speaking of which. I'm craving a roast-"_

 _"I can cook, but roast-"_

 _"Let me finish." She swats his back with her bag and he chortles, as she fumbles for her key. "I was thinking next Friday you could come here for dinner, I want to cook a roast, and I can't do it for just myself. It would be a repayment in kind, for tonight and, your agreement to help me."_

 _"You don't have to-"_

 _"We're not going to argue. I will cook for you next week, yes or no?" They're stood by his car now, her hand reaching out to stop his opening the door. The shock of their fingers meeting is apparent to her even if it isn't to him, she almost gasps at how warm they are in comparison to her own. Her own we're always cold, even in the hottest weather, she supposed she had poor circulation._

 _"It's seems I'm in a losing battle with a highly intelligent woman and I'm guessing I'm best giving up now and agreeing to come next week?" She laughs and he laughs with her, encircling his fingers around her hand and kissing it as she replies._

 _"Yes. That's about the size of it."_

 _"I'm pleased. I look forward to it. Equally, I like knowing where I stand with women." She arches her eyebrow and he smiles, finally opening the car door for her. She slips onto the leather seats nodding a good evening to the elderly Branson, he was a darling man whose son was going to take over the post in a few years. Robert is already seated beside her, the advantages of having no dress and heels to contend with._

 _"Are you going to tell me where and what we're going to see?" He smirks, his hand reaching over and gently taking hers. She gulps slightly at that and can't watch as he traces the pads of his fingers slowly over each knuckle and around each of her nails._

 _"The colour is beautiful." She appreciates he means her nails and nods her head, it was a dark midnight blue that matched her dress, she loved it._

 _"It may be." She cocks her head towards him. "But it hasn't answered my question has it."_

 _"No, but then neither will my next comment, so, if you just want me to shut up do say." She rolls her eyes, pressing the hand he holds deeper into his grasp. She liked the feeling. More than she thought she should. She was moving too fast she feared, but she trusted him, it was odd, she had known him so little time but she had a gut feeling he'd never intentionally hurt her. It was trusting herself that was going to be the hardest thing._

" _I don't want you to shut up. What were you going to say?"_

 _"Well I should have said it when I fist saw you, or when we were inside but I-" The hand that isn't grasping hers begins its nervous habit of tousling his hair and she smooths her thumb over his, where their hands are joined._

 _"Just spit it out."_

 _"Well, you look, you are, very beautiful. The colour is...blue and-" she laughs at that._

 _"Yes Robert it is blue. Well done on that." He blushes a deep red and she feels sorry for being rude but she doesn't panic for long, his wide smile stealing her worry away. "But thank you. For the compliment."_

 _"But you don't believe me?"_

 _"Men. Or rather a man, has called me beautiful before and I learnt I couldn't trust him." The darkness she seemed to be able to keep at bay when she was with Robert begins to creep forward. The smoky gases oozing through her mind._

 _"Did he ever call you gorgeous?" She blushes softly, her hand holding his more tightly, it was odd, she didn't want to move fast. But she couldn't help it with Robert, he relaxed her and she did trust him. He'd put himself forward to help her, knowing the price she might pay and he'd been determined. Who wouldn't have trusted him? She doesn't have a chance to answer him, Branson calling their arrival._

 _It's a dark black street rather than a bright exciting square that they arrive at, and she instantly panics, no doubt from being abandoned in such places by Bricker to make her way home. Robert seems to sense her sudden panic and squeezes her fingers._

 _"Look at me Cora." She jerks her head back around away from the darkness that was fuelling the adrenaline in her body. "It's just a short walk from here. Branson can't go any closer, the roads pedestrianised." She nods slightly and he jumps from the car. It's then that Branson's eyes catch hers in the mirror._

 _"Let him impress you Miss Levinson. He wants to, very much." She's about to reply that she's passed the stage of being impressed, that happened some weeks ago, but Robert opens her door and she swings herself out. He takes her clutch and holds her hand just as he did before at the company ball. But this time, he doesn't drop her hand and wrap it around his elbow he holds it still. His fingers slide between her own, his eyes watching hers to check he's not upsetting her. She smiles as best she can, it wasn't that she didn't want to, she wanted to very much. But the thought of someone spotting them, the fear of being splashed all over the paper was something that scared her- Simon could well be following her._

 _They begin to walk down the dark alley that she had seen from the car. He keeps his pace slow, his hand gripping very hard. She realises he's supporting her potential fall on the uneven surface._

 _"Can't you tell me now?" The silence was all very well, but after what Branson had said she felt she had to make it clear she was content with him as he obviously wasn't convinced she was._

 _"You'll know soon enough, the theatre is just around the corner." She knows he can sense her scowl through the dark when he chuckles. The sound makes her lose her footing, accidentally letting her heel touch the cobbles, she'd been successfully walking on her toes until that point. He catches her neatly. His free hand supporting her waist. She laughs with him, grabbing his jacket for support._

 _"It's almost as if you knew I'd be clumsy Lord Downton." She giggles, and she briefly wonders if she'd drunk more of that wine than she thought._

 _"Yes. That piece of lose carpet between my office and your desk has been the source of some amusement for me." She hits him gently with her bag, careful not to topple herself again. He laughs which pleases her no end. It was true she did get her toe caught fairly often in the slight rise of the carpet from beneath the ledge on his side of the doorframe. It was also true that he often chuckled when she did trip._

 _The alleyway ends and Robert's fingers slip from her own, the pavement becoming smooth. She'd never asked for his touch, or his support for that matter. But he's given it. Not just physically but he was supporting her mental state as well. She leans her body closer to his again, letting her fingers drift by her thigh until she finds his own. She takes them, his fingers slipping securing between her own, gently squeezing in acknowledgement of her touch. She thinks of Branson's words and turns her gaze away, she wanted to impress him too._

 _She sees the grand, flashing sign: My Fair Lady. She feels his gaze as she spots it. She watches his approving smile. He was happy that she liked it and she was delighted she could make him that happy._

 _The next few minutes pass in a blur, him handing her champagne, escorting her up flights of stairs. All she does know is, his hand never releases her own. When he ambles to the bar, she keeps a hold of him; on the stairs she clutches tighter, desperate to not make a fool of herself by falling. Even when they enter the private balcony they are to occupy for the evening her gasp doesn't bring her hands to her mouth. Her fingers stay curled in his, warm and safe._

 _"We should sit." He gestures to the wide array of seating, the double settee- although much higher than a normal one, to see over the balcony- seems to entice her more than the normal, red velvet bound chairs._

 _She releases her hand from his gently, moving to the settee. She anticipates him joining her, but he stands stock still behind her, watching her. She bites her lip, unable to read his expression. It was strange, the tingling of dread, the memories that resurrect themselves even in these happy moments. Simon used to watch her like that, usually before pouncing on her and demanding something or other, always something she didn't want to give._

 _She's more than thankful he settles beside her then, his fingers drifting into her own again, his eyes seeking her approval. She only nods, purposely using her other hand to wrap his fingers over her hand._

 _"Branson said you wanted to impress me." He opens his mouth to speak, his head shaking gently from side to side before it falls shut. "You know, you didn't need to do the balcony thing, I would have been happy in the stalls. You don't really need to impress me. I trust you, and that means, for me, so much more."_

 _"I appreciate that. But I have a certain pride. It's not often I find a woman I wish to impress. Now that I have, I would appreciate the chance to try." She blushes slightly. She never took compliments well, she'd got used to the fact that compliments were only given for wanting something in return, to lead her on. Therefore they bounced off her, her brain boxing them up, not to be touched. In essence she supposed she wasn't worthy of them. Simon had never really complimented her, all his comments had been false, for his own gain and thus she thought herself unworthy and inadequate. "Women don't take compliments these days, do they?"_

 _"It's not that. I can't trust a compliment anymore. He, he used them against me. For his own benefit, to persuade me to...I was inadequate Robert, you must realise that, for him to search out other women-"_

 _"Cora, you're far from inadequate. Don't let him have this power over you. He was an idiot. A scoundrel. Who doesn't deserve your thoughts let alone anything else." She wants to smile, to thank him. But she can't. Her eyes cloud. The darkness that had been so close earlier resurrecting itself._

 _The honest truth was she knew, somewhere that Robert was right. He'd taken control of her. Manipulated her. And now she believed she was actually inadequate. She couldn't see clearly anymore that he was in the wrong. The only parts of her that knew that were being swallowing and consumed by the dark smoke that filled the furthest corners of her thoughts. The ones that always lurked waiting for some link to old thought and events to prey on. Now they were picking this, this happy moment. She wanted nothing more than to scream, anything to drive them away._

 _She closes her eyes the lashes sealing the tears within. She conjures up the image of her happy place from the smoke. The only place she can relax. She thinks of the beach, as a young girl, the waves rushing towards her, her brothers cheerful laughs. And then her father rushing towards her, lifting her high in the air. The sea wind rushing through her hair, the salt burning her nostrils. Her father lowers her to the ground and the next thing she sees forces her eyes open. Robert. Sat on the beach. Watching. Smiling, laughing. Waving at her, beckoning her to him._

 _"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you Cora, please, forget I ever said it."_

 _"I have already. Besides, you're probably right. I just can't...Anyway I don't want to ruin this evening. You wish to impress me, and I have a strong feeling that you will."_


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Thanks for all the lovely reviews! This chapter skips on with regards to the 'past' element. I hope you enjoy. And please leave your thoughts.

* * *

 _Robert couldn't quite believe he'd known her over a year. Neither could be comprehend that they had been 'dating' for ten months. Most men would have scowled and called him odd if they knew that in those ten months they'd never slept together. The honest truth was, Robert very much wanted to, but he'd agreed ten months ago that she would call all the shots. They'd got close a few times. Quite often actually. They spent every weekend together, some weeks they lazed in one or other of their houses, others they went out on Friday night or Saturday night. They always separated in the evening though, sometimes that wasn't until late, having lounged around watching films after a night out. A few times they'd dissolved into some type of passionate embrace on the settee but it had gone no further. To begin with it had been Cora that had pulled away, leaving an apologetic kiss to his neck. More recently it was him, the slightest pause by her made him panic. He couldn't. He absolutely couldn't do anything she wasn't one hundred percent content with. It had taken months to allow her to become this relaxed around him, and still longer for the dark thoughts that had caused her to well up at the slightest thing to occur infrequently enough for him not to worry about what he was saying._

 _This Friday night was just like any other. They'd stayed in, at Cora's this week. They'd cooked together before talking and laughing for hours. Now they sat on her large leather sofa, her feet curled beneath her as she leaned against him, a blanket over her as protection from the slight chill- despite the fact she persisted she wasn't cold. The credits on the film were rolling and she shifts in the all too familiar way beside him, her arms stretching up gently from beneath the blanket where they had held his shirt. He sits up, freeing his arm from her shoulders as she yawns a little._

 _Her hair is slightly matted on one side where she'd been resting on his shoulder. He combs his fingers gently through it, and she chuckles._

 _"It won't come out." She stumbles upright and heads for the kitchen. "My hair is a lost cause."_

 _"I think it's beautiful." She turns briefly before she delves into the freezer, a smile mixed with a rosy hue colouring her face. He is delighted. It had taken almost the whole year for her to appreciate and accept his compliments. The first time being on Christmas Day when she'd attending his family Christmas. She'd known his mother was a battle axe and he'd kissed her in congratulation the moment they'd stepped out the house late that evening, his mumbles about her being amazing not being lost on her._

 _"I've got some Ben and Jerry's, which would you prefer, the cookie dough or the one with the white chocolate polar bears?"_

 _"The Baked Alaska." She rolls her eyes as she places the other away._

 _"I should have guessed that the little boy would like the polar bears." She flops on the_ _settee beside him, handing him the fancy long ice cream spoon._

 _"Of course. I'm surprised you thought anything else of me. Besides, if you were such a big girl surely you would have brought over the cookie dough, or for that matter would never have purchased the Baked Alaska in the first place." She swots his arm but he reaches out and grabs her waist, pleased when her laughs fill the room._

 _She'd changed when she'd got in. The dark jeans and soft pastel tank top revealing a large amount of her neck, collar and shoulders. In comparison to her slight shivers he was over hot, still in his suit trousers and shirt, although thankfully he'd left his jacket and tie in the hall._

 _She swallows her first spoonful and Robert watches the gentle shake of her shoulders with growing worry._

 _"Here," he hands her the blanket, wrapping it gently over her shoulders. She smiles but he can see a glint of something he doesn't quite recognise in her eyes._

 _She eyes him gently as she eats, her spoon falling redundant, she pulls her legs up under her again and moves to sit where she had been before. Her eyes never stray from his and Robert couldn't help wondering what she was thinking. He's grown accustomed to knowing, but he didn't this time._

 _The ice cream sits between them on his lap both their spoons battling for the polar bear that had uncovered itself on one side. He gets there first, and she tries to topple it from his spoon. It was all so innocent, so childish but enjoyable with Cora. Natural. He'd never had this with any other woman he'd ever been with. He'd never felt like he'd known any of the women, they'd all wanted something physical and he'd been willing to give it. Cora didn't, she'd come searching for a friend and they'd drifted into the dating scene slowly. And even those dates were based on a mutual desire to see some film that was out, or go to a concert or the theatre. It was never him spending money to impress her, or try and keep her, with no appreciation for the expense he gave up as had been the case with all his other 'girlfriends.' They were in essence best friends._

 _She fails to get him to drop it from his spoon but only because he stills her hand with his._

 _"Look at me Cora." She does so and he releases her hand, nudging her lips open with his spoon. "Eat it Cora. You deserve the first white chocolate polar bear far more than I." She does so with a small grin on her face. Her eyes still burn into his own. By the time he's taken the spoon from her mouth he's anticipated her kiss._

 _Kissing Cora was beyond words he knew. Teenagers read articles in silly magazines about how to kiss, about changing pressures and where you put your hands but the honest truth was none of it really had any bearing. In the moment your body knew. It was nature. But Robert had known instinctively with Cora that something was different. Her mouth was more appealing than any that had come before her. Just as their relationship had been a natural progression, kissing her had been the same, entirely natural. No thought involved, not the first time, or now._

 _With his thoughts unoccupied he's therefore more aware of the things he's not anticipating. Her hands. They were first on his own taking the ice cream from his grasp and placing it on the table. Then they were on his shirt parting the buttons as she knelt on the settee beside him, his head craning to keep a contact with her lips. The air swoops over his chest, her warm fingers sending shock waves over the places she touched. She pushes the shirt off his shoulders and he shrugs one arm out, the other clasping her hip as he tries to remain steady._

 _They had certain passionate embraces before but they had never involved removal of clothing. Some touching occasionally and kissing of skin that was already bare but neither of them had ever actively removed clothing. Robert expects her to stop, to pause as she usually does and chew her lip, mumble an apology and then settle back down beside him, but she doesn't. Her lips push harder leaving him to turn his weight towards her to stay upright. She settles back onto the sofa when he does so, but her fingers still touch him. Her movements begin to slow with her kisses and she rests her forehead against his own; looking down between them, her hot breath sticking to his lips. She says nothing and he mirrors her silence letting her watch her fingers drift over his skin, sketching the contours and the muscles._

 _He waits for her to make the next move, his breathing is heavy and he tries not to focus on the feeling of desire that throbbed though him, convinced she's going to pull away. When his lips are wetted ever so slightly by her tongue he glances up surprised, but she nods, her tongue flicking over his lips again. But he doesn't part them, a nod wasn't enough. Not now, not when they'd come this far. He couldn't lose her. And it was that more than anything that shocked him. He'd taken a gamble when he'd agreed to help her, knowing the slightest mistake would set her back to square one. He never thought it would be anything but hurting her that made him hesitate. To think he was hesitant because he didn't want to lose her was odd._

 _He'd had a gut feeling this time a year ago that he was doing the right thing, that really, he was sure he had a solid future of some description with her, and to see her happy, in any way was his hope. To think he was becoming that happiness in every single way and her his, makes him double guess the adrenaline that's screaming at his faltering mouth._

 _"Cora..." She clasps his face between her hands._

 _"I'm sure Robert." He hears the unwavering resolve in her voice, he feels her nails slipping over his scalp and down his neck._

 _"Perhaps though, you might be more comfortable upstairs?" She nods her head and takes his hand. He snatches his discarded shirt form the cushions and let's her lead him._

 _He'd never felt these kind of nerves. Just feeling her pulse against his own. Watching the curls that had fallen loose on her neck. Studying the creamy white of her complexion, wanting nothing more then to kiss away the straps of her tank top. But he refrains himself from wrapping an arm around her waist and lapping at her skin. She had to do this as she wanted. It was her night._

 _He'd never been upstairs before, he sees a room off to the right but they turn left to arrive in her bedroom, directly above the lounge-kitchen, an ensuite on the right. Her double bed fills the centre of the room, an arch of fitted cupboards from the previous owner over the top, fixed to the back wall. Two wardrobes on the far side of these leading to the front of the house. On the wall with the door lies a dressing table._

 _She sits on the edge of the bed, taking the shirt from his hand and shuffling back on the bed, making room for him. He kneels in front of her, unsure how to continue. It was for her to take the first move. And she does. And in typical Cora style, with a bang._

 _Her index fingers slip inside the waistband of his trousers as she leans backwards, the effect being to pull him with her. She lands on her back, him leaning over her. Her fingers move from where they had been to release the zip on his trousers and then pull them down._

 _He had been staring at her, watching her eyes, searching, checking for that moment of hesitation. But there was none._

 _He kisses her._

 _Her sigh of contentment rings between them, her hands still nudging his garments lower. He doesn't make a move on her clothes, his hands laying redundant by her hips, thumbs stroking the tiny piece of exposed skin above her jeans. She reaches a point where she can't go any further and he moves off her, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull them down. When he turns back she's pulled the duvet back and is sat on the bed sheet, her curls against the pillow. Oddly for him, her eyes don't roam his body, assessing him, as most women had done before her. She just smiles._

 _"I like it when you kiss me. Come and kiss me again." The whole situation felt as though he was the one that was nervous, who's last girlfriend had made him feel insecure. Cora was supposed to be shaking with nerves but she was so calm. So very happy._

 _He lays down beside her, resting a hand on her stomach beneath her loose top and tugs her over, onto her side. Her lips settle on his along with her soft giggle as he tickles her and he feels his nerves lift slightly. His fingers twist over the soft tank top again and beneath it, finding the silk of her bra._

 _"You can take them off." He shifts her onto her back his hand already having released the clips of her bra. She lifts her arms in the air and he gently pulls her velvet top from her body. The white creamy flesh of her stomach distracts him from slipping her bra from her shoulders. Instead he leaves the pink silk go and presses his lips above her belly button, tracing a swirl of kisses to her jeans._

 _"You can take those off too." He wraps his hand beneath her back, pulling the waistband over her bottom. The other unbuttons the front and pulls. He removes them from her quite quickly, shuffling them down her legs from the bottom. He glances at her again, wondering if her new appearance might make her hesitate, it hasn't._

 _He finds the dip in the mattress beside her, his fingers trailing up her leg to her hip, where her panties still sat, and then to the dip of her waist before falling upon the lose bra. His hand traces up her back, over her shoulder blade before it lands on the elastic resting there. The strap falls to her elbow easily enough and a quick shift of her arm drops it low enough for him to spy her nipple. He lifts his gaze, not wanting to give her the wrong impression by staring. He kisses her again, gently, his thumb running beneath the swell of her breast, before slowly tracing her hard nipple. Her body arches into his, surprising him. He notes her blush and supposes her reaction surprised even herself._

 _Not that she remains surprised long, her fingers feed into his hair, tugging and twisting. Her body falling backwards with the weight of his own. He keeps his body off of her, careful not to crush her form as he removes the other strap of her bra, kissing from her shoulder to her nipple._

 _He can't help but marvel over how beautiful she is. Her dark hair billowed around her, her blue eyes still shining when they open. And the parts of her body he'd never seen, they were stunning. But the beauty for him was beyond that, it was beyond the soft moans and murmurs of names that filled the air as their remaining clothes were removed. It was the fact he'd managed to bring this woman back, to find the Cora that had been buried beneath that woman he'd first met, the nervous, terrified woman. The Cora he had found was beautiful and kissing her in this moment as she arched her hips into his own, trying to tempt him to give into her, was seemingly forever lasting. He certainly wanted it to last forever._

 _He knew he was hesitating. Treble checking that she was sure, that yes, she did want him to enter her. His fingers find the spot he needs easily enough, her body twice as ready as he was anticipating._

 _Her eyes flit closed when he does and he stills immediately, knowing that he was hurting her. She'd only been with one man, of course this was going to hurt. But, her fingers don't tense on his shoulders, he doesn't see any signs of pain beside the slight screwing up of her eyes, and the shudder of his own arousal at the tightness of her muscles._

 _"Are you alright. That didn't hurt too much?" He whispers the words into the charged atmosphere._

 _"No more than I expected. Please Robert..." She doesn't finish her pleas. His body worked on that smile he'd just seen._

 _It was a fast rhythm, it had to be if Cora was going to have any chance at finding the release she deserved so much more then him. Her hands claw at his back, her feet pushing into his buttocks, urging him deeper inside her. He gets a quick grasp of what she liked best, it was the moments when her arms fell slack, her lips parting, chin tipping back._

 _He feels his groin tightening and he tries not to think about it, he tries, so desperately to focus on Cora. Her face, the curves of her chin, the length of her dark lashes, the creases by her eyes as she watched him, her rosy lips, slightly swollen with their hard kisses from before. He takes the chance to kiss them again, pausing in his thrusts._

 _Her hands curl into the hair he thinks must be ready to fall out with how much she'd clasped it. Her body shifts slightly more beneath him, her hips pushing upwards. Her gentle whimper dissipates between their mouths as she does so. He resumes his thrusts at a slower pace, mimicking the movement she had made. It has some effect on him, but far more on her, which is exactly as he had hoped._

 _Her chest heaves beneath his own as she gasps for breath between his kisses. He parts their mouths, only for her to press her lips down his neck, nipping her teeth into his skin. Her body wriggles again as he lowers his lips to her collarbone and her breasts. Her hips rock with his at the change of position, her whimpers becoming near constant exclamations of his name._

 _His control quickly vanishes. The pressure of her hips forcing him faster. The taste of her slightly sweaty flesh, and the feel of it on his cheeks and nose. It tasted of all sorts of things he associated with Cora, strawberry- obviously the flavour was found in her body wash as well as her shampoo. The sweetness of it, was all Cora. That was Cora all the way through. The salt was her nerves, and the magnitude of what they were doing._

 _He watches her face as he drifts his fingers lower, towards where the were joined. He didn't want to scare her. He was aware that the man- she had refused to name her previous boyfriend- most likely forced her to do things she wasn't comfortable with, and no doubt before she was ready, he didn't want to touch her if she didn't wish it. Indeed, her moans stop, her eyes opening in question. He stills his hand but she merely nods._

 _He touches her gently, his finger curling slowly with his thumb where they join. Her wetness covers his finger and no sooner does he press his thumb more firmly he groans her name, his lips curling over the curve of her shoulder. He almost apologises, he hadn't wanted to force his own release, only hers, but then he feels the ripples. He'd been feeling them before of course, but he felt them more now, as his own body began to relax, hers was tightening._

 _The ripples of her sex were harder, more violent, and four times as frequent as they had been a second ago. He keeps still, and presses his thumb where it had caused his own collapse. She whimpers, her lip fixed between her teeth. Sure enough, it was all she needed, her muscles contract around him, making his own desire peak again, but he swallows those feelings and watches her face. Her mouth widens, a strangled cry of his name making him chuckle._

 _Her legs fall from his waist as she relaxes, but he still feels the pounding against him, the vibration of her as he settles beside her. He circles his finger gently over her hip and waist. Her leg stays coiled over his hip, her ear presses to his chest, by his heart. He moves some stray curls behind her ear with his other hand that arches over her head. She glances her eyes up to him before settling a soft kiss over his heart._

* * *

Her soft eyelids startle open beside him shocking him from his memories. She blinks three times in quick succession, obviously trying to push away something that was troubling her. He watches lazily from beside her concerned when he turns to face him and he spies her clammy forehead. She pushes the duvet quickly away.

"Cora, you seem rather warm, are you alright?" She nods slowly, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling. Her gaze is very distant, something he hadn't seen since she used to be haunted by her past. He nudges her side, slipping his fingers beneath the nightdress that was already bundled at her waist.

She keeps staring at the ceiling, seemingly not hearing him. Her hands join his on her stomach just as silent tears roll down her cheeks. Robert starts.

"Cora, darling. Look at me." He wipes the tears from her cheek, they are warmer than his own skin. She'd been so content just yesterday, admiring the spices in Grenada and asking the tour guide all manner of questions. Even when it rained at the top of the vast volcano stopping them from seeing the lake that filled the crater she'd smiled and laughed about the weather being worse than England. She had giggled when he had spotted the native women dressed in fancy costumes, bowls of fruit perched on their heads. She'd even offered to pay the fee so he could have a picture with them. Although he had a feeling that was more for Cora's own amusement when they got home and showed everyone the pictures.

"I let you down." Her hand holds his like a vice, but her eyes don't glance away from the ceiling.

"Cora don't-"

"I did. A little boy. We wanted four. We only had three and then you wanted a little boy to hand your title to. And I-" The tears stream down her face and he shakes his head.

"Cora, we don't live in 1920. You're taking responsibility for something you have no control over. It's me that determines the sex of our children, not you."

"Yes. But the lack of ability to conceive after Edith, and then again after Sybil must have been my fault."

"We don't know that. Besides, after Sybil your body had every right to refuse. That pregnancy was ghastly." To say bringing Sybil into the world had been challenging would be an understatement. The pregnancy was long and painful for Cora. The birth felt longer if that was possible. "Where did all this come from anyway? You were so happy yesterday."

"I had a dream. A nightmare really." She finally looks at him, curling her body into his. He feels his parental duty overcoming him, Cora feeling more like one of his daughters than his wife. She cries a little more, her fingers tugging at his bare chest. He knows she's going to tell him about it he just had to bide his time. His fingers run around her back, soothing her back slowly, just as he did when winding his baby girls. "He was so beautiful. Blonde curls and blue eyes. So tiny. And then he was bigger, running around. Laughing and smiling. We were together in a park. And then...then at home. And the girls thought him wonderful..." He soothes her back a little harder. "Then it all went red, like blood. And he disappeared, and instead, all I heard was my screams, your pleas for my life. Bleeping machines. And then nurses, saying he was...was-"

"Shush, my darling. You're fine. No one has died. And I'm here." She nods against his chest and her cries turn to disjointed gurgles. "Now, as there's no hurry to be up today, why don't we try the room service?" It was a blessing it seemed that their trip was not booked until that afternoon when they were going to enjoy a glass bottom boat excursion off one of the beaches of Scarborough.

He reaches for the menu and passes it to her. It was true he always intended to make use of the room service at some point during their holiday, and the week that still remained would hopefully bring about a more joyful chance to embrace it than this one. But it was apparent Cora was unsteady, and he'd rather she recovered before they raced upstairs.

"I'll have the full English breakfast." She gets up from the bed and he hears the gentle splashing of the water. He pulls on his pyjama top heading for the phone in the living area.

The gentleman promises his food in the next half and hour. Robert takes the opportunity to send a text to Matthew. Hoping that all he'd left for the man to do was coming off well, as well as the plan for the following week. His phone buzzes back immediately with a happy 'yes, can't wait.'

"Robert?"

"Yes?" He stumbles back to the bedroom, tripping over the chair that he and Cora had discussed moving since the day they arrived.

She stands by the bed, half her clothes scattered across the bed already. Anyone would think she was late for work, and struggling to find anything smart enough to wear. He swallows the urge to chuckle knowing it would make her kick off. He thought it was possible she was starting her monthly, she was always more emotional then, but he wasn't about to ask.

"I can't find my denim skirt I was planning on wearing."

"You've already laid it out in the other room. You did it last night." She starts laughing, a strange distressed laugh that Robert knew would lead to tears as soon as she begins to hiccup. He clasps her waist just before that point, saving her from collapsing onto the bed. His body moulding instantly to hers. She clings to him and he lets her, her tears washing afresh onto his shirt. He had a feeling there was more to this than just one nightmare. He lowers himself to the bed pleased to have the firmness of it to support his weight when Cora was hanging on him. "Cora, my sweetheart. What is troubling you, it's not just the dream, is it?"

"I'm old." Her words come between sniffles. He had never seen her like this, she'd always been amazingly strong despite the past she'd been burdened with.

"You're not-"

"I've missed my period by ages. And it's not the first time. It happened a while back, before Christmas." His eyes close slowly, once. Of course, it would explain her moods and the dreams, the hormones were playing with her. It would explain why she'd flared up about Jane. She was anxious and slightly insecure. He'd heard that in some women it resulted in a burst of lust and that would easily explain her rather frisky behaviour since they'd been on holiday.

"Cora, it's perfectly natural. And before you think it makes me love you any less, it doesn't. You have been my sole purpose in existing for some time. Let's face it, my mother thought me a lost cause before you came along." She looks up briefly at that, a smile in her eyes. "And look at me now. No woman eyes me across the deck with my shirt off, but you my dear, every man chances a glance. I've seen." She rolls her eyes and he tickles her waist. "And you only have to ask Rosamund if there's anyone in the world she's dying to look like and she answers 'Cora.'" She shakes her head at that, pressing a kiss to his neck.

"Yes, so she might. But her hair is the colour most women would die for, it's stunning." Robert kisses her temple gently, pleased she seems to have found herself again. "Thank you, for making me feel better."

"That's my job Cora. To look after you. To love you, and to remind you that I do when you forget." She crawls from his lap, throwing her clothes back into the drawer. A knock sounds next door, a call of 'room service' startling Robert from staring at her form- she really wasn't old.

The tray is piled high. The salty bacon burning his nose. The spiced sausages Cora favoured billowed with steam and the egg, it was the egg that Robert smelt, the rich softness that it's scent seemed to ooze. The there was the hash brown, not burnt but perfectly crispy nestled between the black pudding and the tomato. He knows the first thing Cora will smell is the baked beans, she hated them. He'd got used to the habit of drowning them as quickly as possible, most notably when she'd been pregnant with Mary the smell had made her sick.

Sure enough she smiles wide as he places the tray on the bed and then her nose scrunches and she turns away.

"Oh Robert! Get those beans away from me!" He laughs and takes his plate from the tray leaving her with it to balance on her lap. They sit opposite each other, chewing and chattering.

"Do you know what I was thinking of this morning, before you woke?" He'd wanted to tell her the moment she had woken but naturally the thought had vanished when she'd startled awake so upset.

"Tell me." She stops with her fork of sausage halfway to her mouth.

"I was thinking of that first night. The first time I slept with you in my arms."

"Oh goodness. I try to forget." She laughs half heartedly, a warm blush clouding her cheeks as thoughts come to mind.

"You were so lovely. So pure. You still are."

"I was practically a virgin. If perhaps a marginally abused one." Those words still stung. Her past still stings him quite a lot; to think a man had used her, in essence for his job security and sex, was something he couldn't fathom. It was quite frankly, vile. He'd invested money, without Cora knowing to charities that helped people abused like that, they were rape victims in many ways, controlled by the demands of somebody. Cora had recovered, but many didn't.

"Don't say that."

"It's true." He sees no tears, he would have done all those years ago, but not now. "But I got something from it. I found a best friend, a husband. And with him, with you, a family." She reaches up to kiss his lips. Before falling back onto her haunches. She springs from the bed. "Eat up." He glances down at the plates before them, hers was empty, his was still half full. He's about to open his mouth in amazement but stops himself. A thought occurring and then vanishing as quickly, being pushed away by the rational part of his brain. No. No. She wasn't. She would have known.

* * *

Cora splashes decidedly into the water. Not that splashing was really involved, there was no spray, no droplets of salt landing on her face or shoulders. It was more of a gentle plunge into the warm depths. The sand was just below her, her knees falling to it without the risk of her chin falling below the water line. The irony was, the coast could only, very just, be seen in any direction from where they were. They were on a sand bank seemingly in the middle of the ocean.

Sybil jumped straight off the back of the small glass bottom boat, not that one could really call it that when the panels of glass had to be constantly splashed with water to make the fish beneath them visible. Nor, when the boat held only fifteen and you had to take it in turns to look through the glass, because the sections were so small, could you call the trip good value for money. But the laughter it had brought was what Cora had desperately needed. The other two families and couple had found the stupidity of the boat tipping under their weight as amusing as she, Robert and the girls had. It had turned into a mini cruise off the coast of Tobago.

Cora could see the skim ball shining in Sybil's hands. The silvers and blues beckoning for the smooth crest of the water. She could see the smirk on her daughters face, the look that begged for fun and enjoyment. Edith was looking gleeful for once this holiday as well, Cora only hoped it would last. She hadn't mentioned that she knew her secret. In truth she was struggling to cope with the thought of being a grandmother, if had been part of what had upset her that morning with Robert, not that she could tell him. Everything at the moment seemed to be piling against her, making her feel old.

Mary utters Sybil's name rather harshly somewhere off to her left as the ball bounces across her vision as Mary attempts to hit her sister back. She misses, the ball falling short with a floppiness that contrasts the accuracy of Sybil's throw, before she starts complaining about Sybil being too good. Her youngest daughter laughs.

Edith swims in the opposite direction as she climbs from the boat and Cora doesn't blame her, it wasn't a good idea for her to get tied up in a game of skim ball, if Sybil threw it hard enough and it hit her stomach she'd likely experience at the very least some discomfort.

Sybil shoots the ball to her next, her body naturally flexing away, despite the waves taking the majority of the impact it still skims her hip, leaving a red mark. The water splashes up onto her face and she shakes her face to keep it from her eyes.

She flexes the sphere in her hands, feeling the weight, calculating how hard she needed to throw it for it to reach Robert. She'd watched Sybil and she thought she had a fair idea of the trajectory that would be needed to make it bounce over the surface three or four times.

Sure enough she manages to hit him square on the chest, it leaping higher from the water than she thought and finding the barrier of his skin after the third touch to the crests. His grin and flashing eyes meet her own and she instinctively takes a breath in and slips beneath the waves. Robert was bound to come for some type of revenge. The water licks over her face and she forces her eyes closed beneath the waves. She feels her hair go heavy and fall from its bun onto her back. After holding her breath for as long as she can she lets her feet push her upwards.

She finds a gap where he had been standing a few seconds before, and the children watching her with toothy grins. She's about to question them on their expressions when a hand she knows too well spreads itself on the small of her back, inching beneath the lacing of her costume. It brings back stark reminders of the other day in the shower and she takes a comforting breath, anticipating his words on her shoulder.

"That was very naughty, to throw that ball at me."

"As it may be." She moves in his grasp, trying to shift further away from him. "But the girls are watching, we can discuss this later."

"Maybe. But surely this is a better punishment? For you to be embarrassed in front of Sybil for hitting me?" She rolls her eyes and let's him kiss her neck. She can see Sybil giggling to her right and she smiles. It was about time the girls got over their relationship. The look Mary had been keeping hidden clouds her face again and she murmurs her disapproval, her fingers dropping into the water in annoyance.

"Dad. Please let go of Mum. We don't need to see that."

"Oh Mary," it was Sybil's voice chuckling across the gap, "you must be kinder. It was their wedding anniversary a few weeks ago after all." Cora had tried to forget the event, or lack of one, since she'd been on holiday. But she knew Robert was calling this holiday his present.

"Um, twenty five years last time I checked, Lady Grantham. What do you say to that?" He never called her by her given title, only when he was in a decidedly cheeky mood. The truth was she didn't like it much. She hadn't married him for the title, whatever the newspapers might have said, nor had she married him for his wealth. She married him, quite simply, for him.

"That I definitely made a good choice." She swivels in his arms forgetting her girls, and kisses him squarely on the mouth.

The remaining ten minutes allotted to this break passes too quickly the four of them scrambling around after the skim ball every time it falls flat in the water refusing to bounce. More than once one them goes under the water and ends up shaking their head from side to side like a dog. But before long they're all clambering back onto the boat and drying themselves down.

Cora knows she watches too closely, like her young Miss Levinson self might have done all those years ago, as Robert rubs himself down. She studies the rifts of hair on his chest that most days this holiday she'd run her hands through in bed. The curves of his shoulders that she'd divested of clothing multiple times. The hollow between his throat and shoulder bone that she presses her lips to. She'd never studied him like this for years. She'd taken him for granted a little, perhaps that's why he had been too lenient with Jane. She hadn't admired him and made him feel the special things that she knew only she could really give. Just as he could only make her feel those things. His large hands wrap the towel safely around his shoulders, keeping him from the sea chill.

His hand nestled onto her knee as they sit beside each other, leaning over the glass panels to catch glimpses of 'Fred' and 'Freda,' (the names they'd given to the only two fish the party had seen). It was all hilarious.

Back on land they hear the rumbling of the skies. And the bright blue vanishes to be replaced by the dark greys that often illuminated London's skyline. The next thing they know they're scrambling up the beach, laughing and smiling, only to find no coach waiting. They rush to the chalet, finding no cover beyond standing beneath the sill of the roof, the doors firmly shut. Robert holds her close, but she remains deeply aware of Sybil watching. There was admiration in their youngest daughter's eyes as she gazed upon them, something that had never appeared in either Edith's or Mary's when they had taken so much as a second to look at their parents together.

Cora still couldn't fathom what to do about Edith. She was unwilling to give Mary away. Therefore the only way to tell Edith she knew was to say she had guessed. Edith was unlikely to buy such a fabrication. Therefore, Cora needed Edith to tell her. But more importantly than all that, if what Mary had told her was true and she hadn't told Michael that really needed to be top priority.

Her thoughts consume her as she gets on the bus fifteen minutes later, soaking wet and in desperate need of a shower, yet she still buzzes from the absurd mess of the whole trip.

Sybil dives off the moment they get back on board desperate to join some class that was taking place, both she and Robert were so pleased with how she'd taken to being onboard. The four of them head back to their cabins, ready to change and shower for afternoon tea.

Afternoon tea was her favourite. The small, finger sized sandwiches and biscuits. The multitude of textures- soft salmons to crunchy honeycomb cookies. Then there was the wobbly jellies that Robert had taken a fancy to, they were far too sweet for her but for every one Robert had she had as many sausage rolls. She had been feeling in the week they'd been away that she'd been starved previously. The twenty-four hour food service that encompassed anything you might think of eating, including burgers and pizzas on the deck had not bothered her when she'd arrived. But she was quickly realising she needed the snacks, the afternoon tea before dinner, otherwise her stomach growled. The speed with which she'd finished her breakfast that morning had amazed her as much as it had Robert. She thinks back to that symptom list, she can't remember over eating being one of them, but then Cora had never been one to have the right symptoms, not even with pregnancy so it didn't bother her. She was getting old, it was time to embrace that, not try and forget it was happening.

As she's eating, and gently admiring the dining room, the chandeliers reminding her of those at Downton. The tables and chairs, that were exceptionally plain looking special in the setting. She admires the cleanliness of the space, the two Filipino gentleman wiping down all the surfaces on regular occasions. In fact, everyone onboard worked exceptionally hard and was proud of their job. As soon as one vacated a chair the table was being cleared; no sooner had you sat down than someone was asking for your drinks orders.

It's as she's admiring the clockwork of this system that she spots the man from the first day of their cruise. The man who'd stared at her on the catermeran. The man she thought she recognised. He stands at the buffet, collecting his food but the shape of the back of his head, the style of his hair. Somewhere in the back of her mind there were memories, yes, definitely more than one. But she couldn't for the life of her place him. And something, somewhere deep down stopped her from going and asking him whether she was supposed to recognise him. She had a feeling, a gut feeling that she didn't want to be reminded who he was. She watches as he leaves the dining room, trailing outside with his tray. She thinks it even more then, the stance of his walk, the bulkiness of his body. He looked like a bodyguard. Maybe he'd been one of the ones at Downton Establishment at some time? But that didn't explain why she had a gut feeling not to approach him- or maybe it did, maybe it was his size that was making her weary.

"Robert?" He's flopped back down beside her, a mountain of confectionary on his plate. "That man, the one on the trip the other day who'd stared at me. Did you recognise him?"

"No. Not particularly, why?" Robert always remembered a face, most notably anyone who had ever worked for him. Which meant only one thing. If she did in fact recognise the man, he was associated with America and the life she'd had there.

"I just saw him again when you were gone, that's all." Thankfully one of the budding waiters leans over the table questioning about drinks, saving her from Robert's questioning look and her own concerned thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Big thank you for all the reviews, particularly the anonymous ones who I can't thank like I can the rest of you. Hope you enjoy this!

* * *

 _Cora's eyes open gently, the straining of the light through her window surprising her yet again. It always surprised her, a year later, if it was sunny in London but in the middle of January, the sight was beyond remarkable. Her eyes blink against the bright pinpointed light and she reaches her knuckles to them, stretchin_ _g._

 _It's only then, as the warmth of the room surprises her (that's another thing she never was in winter London, warm) that flutterings of something spring back to mind. Images of Robert, feelings of Robert. And at this particular moment, his body heat. Following the heat beside her she notes the more insistent rumble of heat on her stomach. The swirling of warmth that matched the circles of his thumb. She lies perfectly still savouring the moment. She'd turned away from him in the night, towards the window, as was her most comfortable position to sleep. Therefore she could lie still and Robert wouldn't necessarily realise she was awake._

 _She doesn't lie still long, the temptation of seeing his face becoming too much. She rolls slowly onto her back, his tickling breath moving from the back of her neck to the side._

 _"Morning." His breath tickles still more, a sweet echo of his whisper._

 _"Morning Robert." She tilts her face to his, touching her lips so briefly to his, the arm furtherest from him rising above her head to stretch before falling over the top of her head, the pillow billowing beneath it. She notes his limited state of dress in comparison to herself and a faint memory of her tiptoes to the bathroom after she thought he'd fallen asleep resurrect themselves from the night before. Sure enough, he hadn't been asleep and he'd lazily twirled his fingers beneath the nightie she'd slipped on as she had clambered back into bed. Now though, she felt overdressed when he was decidedly naked beneath her bedsheets._

 _"How did you sleep?"_

 _"I think it should be me asking that. This is my bed and I'm used to the horrendous mattress, you are not." He chuckles against the curve of her shoulder._

 _"The mattress was the last thing on my mind. I was sleeping beside you. Although I will concede it is a little lumpy." She laughs out loud._

 _"Lumpy. It's rotten. And, you'll be pleased to know, since you're so concerned about my wellbeing, that I let you sleep on the worst half." He tickles her stomach and mumbles his annoyance between her giggles._

 _"Breakfast?" He's resting behind her again, her laughing having caused her to fall back onto her side and curl away from him. She feels her cheeks warm and her lips part. She rolls swiftly onto her other side, hitching her leg over his hip. Her lips push his open, and she finds that sensation she'd had last night. The sweetness of him curling around her, the gentle flicks that she offered in return to his. The shifting of her chin to adjust their mouths, his approval that came in the way he pushed the silk from her body and over her head. His hot breath on her face as he regained his breath before lowering his lips_ _back to hers. Except, he didn't. Instead she parts her lashes to find him watching her, smiling, and thinking. "When I said breakfast. I meant food. Not your hungry kisses." He sits back up, holding her hand._

 _"Don't you want to...I mean, was I not-" She knows her brow furrows and the adrenaline racing through her veins wasn't just from the amorous encounter. She was panicking, she hated the thought of being inadequate. That was...was, too much. His lips close over her knuckles._

 _"You did nothing wrong. You're perfectly excellent. But, I refuse to enjoy the pleasure of lying with you again until I have made sure you have thought over what happened last night and are as happy as I am. By making you some breakfast you have time to think and shower." She can't fault his logic, gently rubbing her hands over his lower chest and his tummy. Sitting up straight she eases her body against his, pressing her upper body to his own and kissing his chin._

 _"I'll have a boiled egg. As runny as you can get it. You're welcome to whatever. There's enough for a full English if you want one. I even brought baked beans, a mini tin just for you." She hated baked beans but she'd quickly learnt that Robert favoured them and had stashed an inexpensive half sized tin from the local store into her cupboard the other day. He smiles appreciatively, kissing her temple as he climbs from the bed._

 _She spots his crumbled clothes on the floor of her bedroom and chews her lip, he couldn't wear those. She gets a little distracted watching him stride across her room. She'd not really taken the chance to look at him naked last night she'd been a little too nervous and she'd been trying desperately to not appear so. She stops staring for half a second when he turns around to look at her, obviously he'd sensed her gaze. She turns her head into the pillow and hopes he can't spy her blush._

 _"I know you were watching me Cora." She tries to stifle her giggle as she buries her face further in the pillow. "Weren't you?" His humorous chuckle has come closer. She nods her head into the pillow. "And did you like what you saw?" She can't help but be pleased her face is hidden from view as she nods again. He chuckles again and the sound of his shuffling reminds her of his tangled clothes._

 _"Robert, those clothes are a state. There's a dressing gown on the back of the guest room door. Put that on. We'll put those in the washing machine."_

" _I'll wash them when I get home. Branson Junior can bring some new ones over." Cora found it awfully amusing that Robert couldn't bring himself to call the son of his old chauffeur just Branson, or better still Richard. "I'll see you downstairs?"_

 _"Yes. You're welcome to start without me. Oh, and I forgot, some bread buttered and cut into soldiers would be lovely with my egg." He rolls his eyes and smiles._

 _"I should have guessed that a woman who liked Ben and Jerry's Baked Alaska and battled me for the first polar bear last night would want soldiers." He disappears out the door in just his black boxers, his chortle following him._

 _She rolls decidedly onto her front burying her face in the pillow he'd slept on. It smelt so firmly of him, the sweet woody smell she'd got so used to. She didn't want to move if she was honest, the mattress might be dreadful but she was just a little tired and so desired to curl up with him again. If she stayed, her mind was reasoning, he might come back._

 _Then his serious smile cuts across her thoughts, he really did want her to think over what had happened. Assess what it had done to her and how she felt. She knew she should if only for her own sake. She'd done this at the beginning with Simon when he had seemed so kind, she'd got lost and then she'd not realised when he started demanding things, when she stopped wanting and just did, becomes he said so. That wouldn't happen with Robert, he wasn't that man. But it was important her body realised that the intimacy this time was wanted, it would always be wanted, not forced._

 _She pads to the bathroom, the stiff soreness between her legs a sensation she hadn't felt in years, in fact she couldn't even remember what it had been like the first time with Simon. She didn't want to remember. The soreness was a comfort, she liked that she felt that way. The water falls into the bath, a rhythmic splashing in the background that made her sway as she brushes her teeth._

 _The bath is steaming- she'd failed to add any cold to the mix- not that it mattered she wasn't going to lie long, just enough time to relax her tender muscles._

 _The lavender soaks over her, running gently between her legs and onto her stomach. It runs between her toes and she stretches them into it. Her back begins to burn and she flips to her stomach, noting the pleasant sensation of her muscles relaxing again. She contemplates submerging her face beneath the water but the thought of having to take time to dry her hair wasn't one she liked. Before she can be tempted to do just that she pulls the plug, the lavender racing down the pipe and gurgling. The towel is almost as scolding as the bath had been, having been lying on her heated towel rail. She doesn't usually rush from the warm bathroom but this morning she does, leaving the mirror blurred wth condensed water behind her._

 _The cold air slips around her sealing her in a sweet warmth that took away the scolding. She can smell the unique smell of bacon sizzling beneath her along with Robert's gentle singing as he cooked. She'd got used to him singing or humming as he cooked, but then that wasn't surprising seeing as they'd spent one day most weekends cooking for each other, she'd grown accustomed to his habits. Not that she'd ever heard it in the morning. The thought makes her blush again and she spies his abandoned clothes on the floor furthering her embarrassment._

 _She slips some underwear on, failing, as she had the day before, to find a set that matched, not that Robert had noticed. She chews her lip as she stares at the mad array of clothes in her wardrobe, Robert had seen her in all of it at some point or another. Realising the ends of her hair are still wet she contemplates her dressing gown, but she dislikes the thought of Robert seeing her in that, it was hardly flattering. And then she spies his white dress shirt. It fits him snugly but on her it would almost fall to her knees. She slips it on and immediately is filled with the smell of him. The mints that he liked to chew exaggerated by the cologne that was vaguely woody. She turns her nose into the collar, tasting the smells on her tongue._

 _Busy inhaling the scent it takes her a second to recognise the sound of hushed music in the background. The tunes of the radio, her alarm. It was Saturday which meant only one thing._

 _"Shit." She forgets she's wearing his shirt and hurtles down the stairs. "Shit, shit, shit." She skids across the lounge, snatching her mobile from the central reservation of the kitchen fumbling with the switches as she shoves the plug into the wall and hears the decided bleep of it charging. She quickly types out a text to her Mom, she'd have to call on the other phone._

 _"Problem?" He stands smirking by the cooker. Her boiled egg perched on her egg cup surrounded by the required soldiers._

 _"Not with you. I forgot it was Saturday. Mother and I always talk on on a Saturday morning at 11.30. I hadn't realised we'd got so late. And my phone is out of charge so she'll have to call the landline." He chuckles as he comes over to her._

 _"That's nice, that you and your Mum talk."_

 _"Yes. Although irritating this morning. She's bound to notice my distracted mind and well-"_

 _She pouts her lips, staring anxiously at the phone, as he places the egg carefully beside her before kissing her smoothly on the lips._

 _"I hoped it is how you like it."_

 _"I'm sure it will be fine." She leans against the work surface as she dips the bread into the steaming yolk (needless to say he'd got it perfect), watching him gently stir the beans and check the bacon. He seems content and steps over to her, taking her waist in his hands as he rubs his nose gently over her own. The dressing gown is soft beneath her fingers as she rests her fingers on his waist and tilts her lips to his. He obliges her yet again with a mischievous grin._

 _"I'm meant to be the rational one this morning. I'm not meant to be tempted by you Cora."_

 _"I want you to be tempted."_

 _"Hence the shirt?" She blushes a little as he feeds her another soldier._

 _"Your shirt smells nice."_

 _"You don't need to tempt me. I'm plenty tempted without you trying, I can assure you." He kisses her hairline. But she can't quite deal with the temptation of being so close to him. She pulls at the tie around the waist of the dressing gown with one hand, her other hand cupping his cheek._

 _"Kiss me." He does, softly at first before prizing her lips gently apart. His tongue inches over them before spreading inside her, the mint taste surprises her, she was so used to his taste and not the one that filled his mouth after a mint sweet._

 _The distant ringing makes her drop her lips from Robert rather messily. Before she mumbles another curse, to which Robert chuckles and skids across the kitchen for the phone._

 _"Mother."_

 _"Yes, morning Cora dear."_

 _"How has your week been?"_

 _"Fine. Fine." But Cora can already hear her mother forming questions, debating her answer, wondering if something odd was going on- they always spoke on the mobile after all. She barely has a chance to open her mouth and explain. She'd been so distracted with her mom she hadn't noticed Robert appearing behind her, boiled egg in hand._

 _"You need to finish your breakfast." She couldn't be more angry with him, her mother would definitely have heard that down the receiver and would now never stop talking. She'd been blasé about Robert whenever 'boyfriend' and 'your night out' or 'that boss you hated but now you like.' There was no hope of that now, her mother would be hearing wedding bells._

 _"Cora, who was that? A man..."_

 _"Robert, Robert Crawley." There was really no point in lying it was too late now._

 _"So it's the buffoon of a boss then?" Her mother hollows into the background for Cora's father who can be heard grumbling in the background. She moves into the lounge as she waits for them to catch up with her._

 _She can feel Robert watching her questionably and at that moment the embarrassment she felt a second before vanishes, replaced by upset and an horrendous amount of disappointment with her mother. She takes the opportunity to eat some more of the beautiful boiled egg before nudging along the seat so Robert can perch beside her. He sits, although she senses a reluctance that she knows isn't because he's worried about his food burning, he'd turned it all off before he'd come over. She slips her fingers into the knot he'd made of his hands on his lap._

 _"Can you put this phone on a high volume so Mr Crawley can hear me?" It was her father and she does so, turning the volume up as loud as it goes. "You should know Robert," it was still her father "that Cora didn't think much of you when you first met. She came back from her interview and denounced you a 'buffoon.'" She's relieved when Robert chuckles beside her and gently squeezes her hand._

 _"Her thoughts weren't unfounded Mr Levinson. I'd had a long day of interviews and when your daughter appeared I knew, without her opening her mouth, that she was perfect for the job. Cora took offence when I straight out offered her the job." Her father chuckles on the other end of the receiver, across the Atlantic and she can't help but smile. Her father didn't find that many people to his liking. You knew if he did, because he teased them._

 _"I wouldn't worry son, she warmed to you soon after that. A sweet little chuckle and numerous pauses used to appear in our conversations when we discussed her work, or the multitude of nights out she started having. Martha and I had huge suspicions from the start that she thought you rather handsome."_

 _"Dad, please..."_

 _"And it appears, that your relationship must have progressed somewhat." She almost presses the red button, her mother's insensitivity making her burn, but Robert's hand holds her fingers firmly. It seemed her dad didn't like her mother's line of discussion either and changes the discussion._

 _"Have you both had breakfast?"_

 _"I haven't yet. My full breakfast is still under the grill waiting for me." Cora hears herself telling him to go and eat, her fingers reluctantly untangling themselves._

 _Robert surprises her when he reappears with a plate full of food beside her, she had assumed he'd leave her alone._ _Their conversation about Harold gets quickly interrupted by her mom exclaiming something about 'safe sex'. Her cheeks flame, her anger flaring with it._

 _"Mom, honestly, I'm twenty-two."_

" _I know, but this handsome man you've found might have made you forget-"_

 _"Mother-" She feels the tears beginning to sting. She hears her father's hushed 'Martha' but it's the taking of her fingers; the firm grip he finds around her hand that she really notices._

 _"I assure you Mrs Levinson everything was quite safe." He was so calm, she couldn't understand how he could be so calm. "I understand your nerves given what happened before but Cora and I have discussed everything. She has the final word, every time. Everything comes down to her choice." There's a long silence and Cora can imagine them sat in front of the phone together, her father squeezing her mother's shoulder. Her mom chewing her lip. Her mother only wanted to check she was absolutely fine with what had happened._

 _"I love you mom." She didn't say it very often, in fact she didn't think she'd said it since she'd left home a year ago._

 _"I love you too Cora. Make sure you look after her Robert. And now I better go, your father's finished the breakfast." The line goes dead._

 _Turning her gaze gently to Robert she feels nervous but he merely smiles and leans forward to kiss her forehead. That was all she needed, a little reassurance that he was still going to hang around despite her terrible mother. He stands at the sound of Cora's little egg timer._

 _"That will be the second egg I put on when I collected my breakfast. And Cora, my mother is worse. Just the little you've seen of her must have told you that." She smiles. Yes, they did have worse to face yet. But her thoughts don't dwell on that, she's watching him as he serves her egg, cracks open the top and butters some more bread to make soldiers. He'd realised her egg had gone hard, that she hadn't finished it and he'd put on another without her asking._

 _"Thank you Robert. For the egg and...just the whole year."_

* * *

Cora knows why the memory had come to mind, it was because of the faint taste of egg that seemed to be sitting in her throat from breakfast. She hadn't noticed in on the boat, or when she'd been diving in and out of the water trying to persuade Robert to come and join her, and see the turtles.

They had been exquisite, and well worth the price they'd paid for the boat trip. Snorkels and all had been provided, not that they were needed, a dunk of ones head beneath the waves with any goggles on, and a big intake of breath was suitable.

It was the beauty of the creatures that Cora was committing to memory as they walked back along the pier. The turtles had been another example of what Robert had mumbled to her the other night in bed, how the whole of the Caribbean was exactly like what was presented on post cards. The turtles she'd seen were just the same. Their shells had wielded every shade of blue, green and yellow one could think of. The hues had ranged from midnight navy to buttercup yellow. Even a brick red could be seen on the backs of some of the individuals. The light had caught these couloirs spiralling then in a multitude of directions towards the eyes, particularly when more then one turtle entered your vision.

She doesn't notice much else as she admires the vastness of the ship from their inferior height her thoughts drifting to and from the turtles. Robert had her hand firmly clasped in his, lugging the bag of towels and wet clothes in his other hand. The girls are behind them discussing in less than hushed tones the excitement of being onboard for two whole weeks.

She certainly doesn't notice the look of pure pride with a hint of smugness that shines across her husband's brow. She doesn't notice the direction in which he stares intently, his eyes searching the distance and then settling on what he was looking for. Nor does she notice a man she does know waving excitedly by the gangplank. She sees and hears none of it, her thoughts miles from their reality.

Her eyes only lower themselves to the meagre dots of people when Sybil rushes passed her, pushing at her hip. Running towards some man, she squints, the sun being too bright even with her sunglasses.

She can see two men, one tall, broad and dark, the back of his head the only thing apparent to her. She knows instinctively it is that man she keeps seeing, the one who had stared at her, the one at the buffet. She grips Robert's hand tighter. But at Sybil's pounding feet the man turns very quickly towards them, to Cora, before taking three short strides to be back onboard. Cora lets the chill disappear, concentrating all her attention on the other man, the man she knew.

His sandy blonde hair would be known to her anywhere, she recognised him as easily as she could pick Robert from a crowd. His blue eyes sparkle, his hand raised straight in the air.

"Matthew!" It was Sybil racing for him, her own hand raised in greeting. She crashes right into him, but Cora notes his eyes are fixed far more firmly to her left, on Mary. "I do hope you've come with a ring. Mary has been in high dudgeon all week. If you propose I'm sure she'll snap out of it." Cora reaches for Sybil's shoulder prying her away from Matthew as a violent red blush covers his cheeks.

"Sybil dear, you need to learn when not to be quite so blunt."

"I don't see why. Surely Matthew wants to know that his girlfriend misses him. I would want my boyfriend to know exactly how I was feeling, so Matthew should want to know how Mary feels."

"Yes Sybil, but you haven't had a boyfriend, so you wouldn't know it doesn't quite work like that." Mary speaks through gritted teeth, the remnants of her embarrassment still on her face.

"I haven't flown all this way to cause a fight between the sisters." Matthew's calm mentality enters the picture once more. "How about we go onto the deck for some lunch, and catch up?" They slip quietly onboard. The gentleman on the gangway zapping their cards. Cora holds back, letting Matthew and Mary walk on ahead. Robert looks at her peculiarly, trying to move her forwards, towards the staircase they usually use, but she tugs him down the long expanse of cabins heading for the back of the ship.

"Cora the restaurant is-"

"You can reach it this way Robert. But let's let them have some time. If you remember correctly, our first holiday together did not involve your parents, my parents or any respective siblings." He chuckles and she spies that warm blush, some memories probably making themselves known. "I assume you've known all this week that Matthew was coming?"

He grins at her charmingly, his hand slipping from her fingers onto her back, thumbing the soft fabric.

"I did. I originally thought we'd all go for the two weeks. But then I figured the week apart would be good for them. If indeed marriage is what is wanted by Mary it was time she learnt it wasn't all plain sailing. And Matthew needed the time to assess his own feelings." Cora shakes her head beside him.

"You are a cheeky man keeping all this from me."

"A man must have some secrets otherwise how is he supposed to surprise his lady?"

The buffet queue is long, but steadily moving. But Cora finds the tugging of her stomach surprises her as does the small growl that it makes. The spaghetti bolognese smells divine and she feels the gentle vibrations of Robert's chuckle as she twiddles her fingers over her tray. She finally spoons the steaming meat onto her plate, the onion and carrot they'd added to the mix making her feel a little light headed.

Sat with Mary and Matthew, Edith and Sybil on an adjacent table, the conversation flows freely, as they all laugh at how Robert had managed to keep the secret from them all. Not that Cora contributes much, she's far too focused on eating; the texture of her pasta was simply beautiful and teamed with the flavours incorporated into the meat; the sweet tomato, the crunchy carrot and the vibrant onion it finally quenches her hunger. She's surprised to find her fellow diners still have a plate full as she bites down on her final fork full.

It's then, her mind returning to the amazement of having Matthew with them that she remembers the other figure; that man who'd been haunting her this past week. She sees again the back of his head, his burly shoulders as he talks to Matthew on the pier.

"Outside, did you know that big man you were talking to?"

"No." Matthew puts his cutlery down. "He was slightly odd, he said he'd seen me in the paper or something. He knew that I worked for Robert at the Establishment. But then, rather then continuing, there was clearly something else he wanted to say, he started and left the moment Sybil called my name."

"But you definitely don't recognise him. He's never worked at Downton, as a bouncer or something?" Matthew shakes his head as Cora's fingers clasp the ceramic plate. Her legs ease her up, her mouth murmuring her decision to get more food but she didn't want more food. The pasta she'd found so stunning only a moment before starts churning awkwardly, pushing back up her throat, threatening her mouth with foul tasting bile.

"Are you alright." Robert's hand catches her waist making her jump from her skin the plate clattering to the floor but thankfully not breaking. She bends down to reclaim it, trying not to notice the sets of eyes that had trained in their direction so obviously.

"Yes. I just, I'm sure I recognised him. I saw him the other day and I just can't place his face. You know that kind of thing annoys me." For the first time she is relieved that she did indeed dislike forgetting a face because she could brush her strange behaviour off. She was well aware this was about more than just forgetting a face. It was the inability to feel comfortable knowing this man was about, he made her mind prickle, as if his face was a memory she had hidden.

* * *

Robert had been worried, scared in fact about Cora's body language earlier. She had been lying, it wasn't not remembering that face that was the problem- that wouldn't make her drop a plate.

The sun was licking away at his skin and he grabs at the lotion watching it slip deftly over his skin. It was cool, easily easing the burning but he knew it wouldn't last, in no time at all he'd be peeling again and Cora would be teasing him.

Sybil comes bouncing over demanding her ship card so she can purchase a drink, Robert gives in and she dances as quickly to the bar. He watches the way she moves, she was so like her mother. His thoughts on Sybil only make Cora reappear in his mind- she'd decided she'd wanted a rest in the cabin before reappearing on the deck. He'd tried to go with her but she had pushed him away and it was clear she needed time to herself, Robert only hoped it wasn't to cry.

"You seem preoccupied. If I could bet I'd say you were worrying about Mum." His eldest daughter was perched on the spare lounger he had reserved for Cora.

"That man is bothering her. She says she can't remember who he is, but who knows I have a feeling she does probably recognise him and that seeing as we don't he's linked to her past."

"She mentioned a few days ago, some boyfriend who had been..." Mary trails off, her gaze dropping from his. In truth there wasn't much answer he could give, he didn't even know the man's name. All he knew was that it had been arranged and that he'd cheated, with multiple women and Cora had only found out a week before the wedding, when she had run to England. He'd met her a week after she landed. There was some other things, but he tried to forget them. "Anyway, she'll be fine. You know Mum, she never gives up. What I wanted to speak about was how very naughty you are, keeping Matthew's coming from me."

Robert chuckles, taking the hand she has rested on her knee.

"Your father has to have some secrets. You mother will tell you I do love my secrets."

"I mean it though. I'm sure it took lots of thinking and planning and it's made me feel terrible about how nasty I was last week. The holiday has been beautiful and now I have Matthew to share the second half with, he's the cherry on the top." Robert can't help but feel Cora isn't all he's lost in the last day, Mary seemed to be slipping so quickly away from him. His eldest daughter was obviously on the cusp of marriage. He wasn't sure what to make of it, Matthew was certainly a good choice, a perfect one- he was the heir to Robert's redundant title after all. But she was his daughter and that made him worry. He supposed half the trouble was when he thought of Cora at Mary's age all he saw was a scared, timid woman who'd become that way because she had been abused. He had a difficulty admitting that Mary was her own person, and entirely unique.

"Whatever comes Mary, you should know that your mother and I are very proud. You're a wonderful woman." She leans over and kisses him, her warm cheek rubbing at the stubble on his own.

"So I have your blessing?" He chuckles and nods before watching her amble back to the pool and slide herself over the edge to Matthew.

He's surprised to find a stray tear on his cheek as he lowers himself back onto the blue towel that protected his back from the plastic lounger. He still worried that in many ways, with his and Cora's beliefs on how relationships should work they had forced Mary into marriage, he wondered if she'd rather just move in with Matthew but it seemed they'd decided and Robert was extremely hopeful that it would work.

He's relaxing back into his book when the lounger dips by his feet, expecting Cora he jumps up, only to find his middle daughter taking deep breaths.

"I've posted a letter to Michael, at the front, telling him about the baby." He takes her shaking hand and runs his own over the top.

"That was the right thing. Now, you and him can start planning." Edith's was yet another situation about which he felt responsible. Once again if it hadn't been for his and Cora's strict ideas about relationships Edith wouldn't be so damn petrified of the baby she was having, or telling her mother. Nor, would Michael, in his situation feel pressured to marry her, which was inevitable now.

He and Cora had met Michael many a time and thought him perfect for Edith. He was older for sure, and had been married before, not that Robert had told Cora that. But, well, from the information Robert had managed to collect regarding that marriage and the ill health of the lady involved he'd decided that the gentleman would not have taken to Edith so obviously if he wasn't convinced that this time it was going to work, not when Edith was a society figure due to her parentage.

"I just worry that I'm not ready. That I'm going to struggle juggling being a mother and keeping the magazine going." This had never been an issue for him and Cora, she'd been desperate for children and willing to give up her job, and Robert was earning almost ten times as much as she had been anyway.

"It's only the first three years or so and then he or she will be off to school. Besides you know your mum and I will be more than happy to babysit." Edith tilts her head but her gaze stays fixed on her lap.

"I know that. It's just, well, I do want to be a good mother. Mum was so excellent and I want my children to have that. Until Michael stops fighting that's not possible, we were going to wait but-" she gestures at her middle staring right at him, blinking fast, trying to fight tears.

"Oh Edith, my dear." He shuffles on the lounger, careful not to overturn it, and wraps his arms around her. "Let's not worry quite yet. We will get home and Michael will have received your letter and we can talk it all through." She nods, the tears finally stilling.

He runs his hand up and down her back, the soft cotton reminding him of so many of Cora's clothes. She had many a nightdress, aside from those made from silk, that were sort of shirt shaped and made of cotton, he so loved snuggling against those in bed, but then he just so loved lying with her.

Edith leaves him then, heading for some food, she says. And Robert's mind tails back to Cora, the twenty-five years they'd spent together. Their wedding anniversary had been a month or so ago but they'd hadn't done anything for it, which looking back on it had been horrendous. He should have taken her out but well, the last couple of months hadn't been easy. What with Jane flirting with him all the time and even leaving her lipstick plastered on his cheek after one late night at work he and Cora had been constantly arguing. And after that, well, he'd put his foot in it, freaking out when he'd found her with one of her art friends late one night watching a romantic comedy: the man was half her age, it had all been absurd.

He was going to change his lack of interest in the wedding anniversary though and have a sit down meal in the restaurant downstairs for just the two of them. He'd sort it so the children did something else. Yes, yes, he'd sort that tonight. He might even buy her something it one of the ports of call. He knew they were heading to Philipsburg in St Martins later in the week which was known for its very tourist style, he was sure to find something there.

He saw her then, his Cora, as he opens his eyes in relief at an idea that might relax her. She'd changed, a light blue and green, like the colours of the Caribbean water, sheer chiffon jump suit blowing in the slight breeze and tied at the waist with a drawstring. Underneath was clearly her bikini, a bright red one.

He sits up, his mouth falling slightly open as she sashays over to him, her flip flops clunking against the decking. Her wide brimmed hat had all her hair bundled tightly somewhere beneath it and her sunglasses fall into her nose and she peers over them at him, a grin erupting on her lips.

"How are you feeling?" She flops down on the towel on her lounger and runs her hand over his knee at her words, leaning towards him. The sheer fabric falls from her front and Robert can see right down her front, the tops of her marginally tanned breasts looming into few.

"Fine. But by the looks you gave me when I walked across the deck, and the gaze you're letting wander over my boobs at this current moment I rather thought you'd have a more favourable greeting than that." He blushes profusely before gently tipping the brim of her hat back with his forehead and sealing her teasing with his lips.

"Is that to your liking?" She nods, her hands twisting together with his as her cerulean eyes dance before his own.

"Perfectly."

"You would tell me Cora, if something was really bothering you?"

"Of course I would. Now, if you don't mind I want to get myself a better tan. I was rather hoping you were going to treat me to a fancy dinner for two downstairs in which I could show it off but..." He can't help but grin and shake his head as she lowers herself into the plush towel, her beautiful body free for him to gaze at.

"You'll have to wait and see." How on earth did she guess these things? How on earth did she know that those exact thoughts had been circling in his head for the last fifteen minutes?

"Which means you have got something planned."

"It means no such thing." But a grin spreads over his face as he leans over to the minimal gap between their loungers to pick up his book. He hides beneath his glasses and begins the fifteenth chapter of his book.

"You're a hopeless liar Robert."

"You once said you liked that quality."

"I don't. I love it. I love you." Her words are whispered, deliberately so that the other people dozing around then don't hear. He doesn't reply just reaches across and squeezes her hip. It seemed she was indeed feeling better, he only hoped it would last. She was all uptight about her ageing, he really could do without her worrying herself silly about this stupid man as well. He only hoped she was worrying herself for no unnecessary reason and that there wasn't some connection with the man and her past.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Thanks for all the reviews, keep them coming! And I hope you enjoy!

* * *

St Barths was by far the most beautiful of all the islands they had been to. It was also the smallest. The bay was so shallow that the ship was docked some way out, between the two headlands. The lifeboats had been lowered that morning to act as tenders, taking passengers to and from the shore all day.

The walk to the shell beach, which was exactly what it said it was- just a bank of shells in all shapes and sizes, had been slow as she and her daughter's had posed outside every high end shop: Louis Voutton and the like, while Robert snapped away with the camera. The price tags in the shops had been explained when they'd rounded the corner of the street to be surrounded by the whole populations yachts'.

When the beach had finally appeared, down a small little track with a little restaurant nestled against the cliff Sybil had hurtled down the bank and dived for the water, her dress splayed halfway up the shore- she'd been complaining of the heat all day.

They'd purchased some lunch and had now been lazing on the beach a good three hours. And now, well now Robert was beckoning to her from the water, trying desperately to get her attention. She had been ignoring him quite well, keeping her gaze averted and her thoughts focused on the tan she was desperate to achieve before she reached home. And a tan for Cora, well, as much of a tan as she can ever manage with her ivory skin. Robert had been laughing at her all week as she'd laid anyway and everywhere in an attempt to get a shade darker, he was convinced she couldn't manage it which had naturally made her more determined to do so.

The problem was, her skin was burning, itching in fact for the cool the water would provide and the shells had become so uncomfortable her bones wanted nothing more than for her to stand up and splash towards her husband. And then there was the fact that Robert disliked swimming and yet he was embracing the water while she sat and tried, futilely, to get a tan. But the thing that weighed most heavily in Robert's favour was the way he looked. Cora honestly didn't know what had got into her the last week, she just couldn't keep her hands off of him. She assumed it was due to the desperation somewhere inside to prove to him she had forgiven him over the Jane saga, not that anything had actually happened there. Unfortunately the more she tried to blame it on that the more she realised the issue lay somewhat closer to home. Those forty-two days of a non existent period had continued and she was cruelly having to admit that she was a mature woman now. She'd heard that some women did have bursts of certain hormones, as would be expected, that sometimes made them more open to their partners attention. It would pass soon enough she was sure.

She'd been so preoccupied worrying, as was a far too frequent habit this holiday (if it wasn't her age it was the man she kept seeing) that she'd missed Robert's exit from the water. He now stood over her, dripping water on her feet.

"I'll pick you up and carry you in if you don't come." His gaze was deadly serious and the stickiness of her skin makes her squirm awkwardly. He was right, regardless if his reasoning was different, that her skin needed a break from the intense heat.

"You go get back in, I won't be a minute." He watches her questioningly but she knows he can't resist, not when his feet are twitching beneath him as the shells dig between his toes and scold the skin.

She fully intends to follow him so she begins tying her hair quickly onto her head but she becomes distracted, oh so preoccupied with Robert. His shoulders had always been broad, at least twice the width of her own, but today they were smoother. They seemed to merge perfectly into the shapely muscle of his upper arms. She realises as her eyes inadvertently trace the path from shoulder to elbow that she is following the trail of the water on his skin. It was the salted Caribbean Sea that was bringing to her attention the handsome features of her man. His back looks just as grand, his spine nestled like a valley between the two symmetrical halves of the soft skin. It was true he was chubbier there than he used to be, and a little extra weight billowed over the top of his trunks but she couldn't care less about that; it was the heart nestled the further side of all that skin, tucked deeper even than the spine that made her laugh and cry. His body had its advantages of course, but then those kind of pleasures could be achieved with any man but Robert could be her only love.

She pulls the elastic tight and let's her hands fall, hoping the simple bun would keep it from the water, she doubted it as she could already feel the weight of her tresses shifting the mass to the back of her neck. She hated it in that odd position, it made her neck sweat and then as the beads of perspiration get trapped she ends up scratching and breaking the skin. It was no use, she'd just have to have it loose. She flicks it down feeling the soft waves skim over her shoulders in ways she hadn't noticed for years. The tickling and the weaving of the strands between themselves making her smile. She used to do that swish all the time when she was young, enjoying the strange thumbing sensation in her head. She'd given that up years ago but the real reason she hadn't felt it was her persistence in wearing her hair up. Robert had always loved it down, and she worn it that way before the girls. But when Mary had been born, like so much she was quickly realising, she started pulling it up out of her face more often with excuses about it being easier to do this or that, it was only on nights out that she let it go.

"Cora!"

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" When on earth had he got so impatient? She stands and the moment she steps off the towel her feet flinch. Even on her sweaty feet that had been soaking up the heat for the last few hours she feels the arch of her foot complaining; the skin crinkling, curling. She could picture just how red it was, the skin crinkling into a harsh pink.

Each step she takes to the shore and Robert's waiting arms causes a searing between her toes, shells pricking between the gaps and piercing at the soft places on the backs of her toes just below the pad.

Her lips twitch and her eyes close as the shells break up, just five steps from her towel, and the sand her toes sink into is moist, freezing in comparison to the scolding. She stretches them, forcing the granules to race between the tender skin.

His fingers latch onto her sides the moment she steps even marginally into the water. The salt sloshes at her ankles as his digits cause little rivers of water to run down her stomach and diffuse on the waist band of her bikini. She blushes profusely as he leans over her, kissing the side of her face, just in front of her left ear. Her arms feel redundant by her sides so she lifts them to nestle half on his shorts and half on his bare skin: both run in water and she feels it swim so easily between her knuckles.

It was with these movements that once again she is struck by how young she feels, her daughter was hoping to be married in a years time and yet Cora felt as though we was the one on the brink of wedded bliss.

"I feel like we're on honeymoon."

"Well..." He snakes his fingers between her own on his hip before turning and wading back through the waves. She feels the sand slipping away beneath them as the shore suddenly drops, a steep bank putting them both out of their depth in seconds. Robert's prepared for her though and before she knows what's happened her legs are around his waist and he's laughing and thrashing as he desperately tries to keep them afloat. He fails, his face disappearing beneath the surface just before her own senses protest at the onslaught of sea water on her face and she unwinds her legs.

The cold stings at her eyes but only for a second before the sun blazes against them again as she resurfaces, her hair a throughly heavy mop of black. He's beside her, laughing again, it seemed he had wanted to frame her in that way and was even willing to end up under water for it.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" In all honesty she couldn't picture the expression he was seeing, she was merely admiring him.

"I was just mulling over how cheeky you are."

"It wasn't that at all. Lying on the sand won't give you lifeline memories of this holiday, you can do that anywhere. You said you felt like you were on honeymoon, well, in many ways this is my treat for the twenty-fifth wedding anniversary we smashed a few weeks ago and that I forgot to take you out for. Frankly, it was a miracle I remembered flowers, and that's not how it should be." She'd tried to forget all the fighting that had dominated February, mainly over Jane. They'd made a truce that has lasted only the twelve hours of their wedding anniversary and then they had been silent again, out of words to yell. Frankly, there hadn't been a worse month in their entire marriage. In fact March hadn't been too wonderful for the first week but then...then, a quiet night watching a rom-com had seemed to do the trick, followed by a long heart to heart and they were back on the road again.

They've swum to the rocks on one side of the bay and he climbs agilely onto them, wanting to warm up he says. She joins him, leaning against his strong arm. She pushes a wet finger through the hair by the side of his ear. It was true that his hair was now grey but she could still see the soft hazelnuts and blondes that had highlighted his once dark hair.

"We're here now Robert, that's what matters."

"Perhaps. But I did treat you wrongly. I had a wild rage because I came home to find you painting on the settee with an old school friend who was in town, yet the week before I'd been caught with Jane kissing my cheek as she left work." She cocks her head, the sunlight falling harshly upon one side of her face and making it impossible for her to see him clearly.

"Um, and I overreacted about that. The way I went on made it sound as though I'd caught you in bed with her. Sybil, in fact, God bless her, came to my room one night and asked me what had happened, she thought that you had cheated and that I should divorce you right away." She chuckles to herself, picturing that night, cold in the guest room bed crying and then the gentle knock of her youngest as she plodded across the carpet and climbed in.

She senses rather than feels his lips on the side of her face. His arm snaking gently around her bare back.

"There was nothing. She was infatuated and entirely convinced that you couldn't give me all I needed. And she was damn crafty she had a knack of doing things, touching me, kissing me just as you appeared. Thinking back, I reckon she watched out for you arriving, or someone tipped her off." She still wasn't sure Robert had divulged all that had happened with Jane, all Cora does know is that the most it had come to was a kiss and she could forgive that, she had.

"Forget it. Now, are we going to swim and attempt to excite Matthew into thoughts of marriage?" She jumps clean from the rock hearing his throaty chuckle behind her.

The water licks at her hot skin, and she feels the cream she's slathered on rubbing off, the water slipping between it in some places and teasing her skin. Her toes find the sand for half a second and she feels the particles puff around her feet as they get unwillingly disturbed. She surfaces to find him already up, a single fleck of water running down by the side of his eye.

"You got me absolutely soaked with that jump!" But he doesn't appear too bothered, that is until he lunges for her and she has to scramble away from him. She races for the shore only for a young boy in a rubber ring to block her path, Robert pounces and her face goes under. Half a mouthful of salty water accompanies her back to the surface and she splutters it out. His smug expression is the next thing she spots, along with the shaking of his chest, she rolls her eyes before circling his neck with her arms- they were safely within their depth now. He takes the hint, his fingers wandering across her back beneath the rippling water; his lips pressing oh so gently to her own.

Robert was never openly affectionate, something Mary had quipped once was a life saver otherwise 'the two of you would never escape the front page.' The truth was their relationship had been so hushed to begin with, so like treading on eggshells that they, neither of them, had ever really wanted to have anything published. Even the girls knew very little of the three years before the wedding and even then they knew nothing about those years that had come before in Cora's case. In fact the other day, when she'd leaked that snippet of information to Mary had been the first mention.

"Well Robert, that was new, in public and all."

"No doubt Mama will be reading about that over her breakfast tomorrow!"

* * *

 _He feels nothing._

 _Just a hot tingling on his back. He can hear her gasps, her breathy murmurs of his name as she pushes his shirt from where it is tucked._

 _He feels nothing._

 _And yet he keeps going, he keeps kissing her, as if desperate to feel something. So desperate. He pushes his hand beneath her blouse, hearing the buttons pop, his fingers splay over her bra and their lips part as she gasps._

 _He feels nothing._

 _Her fingers press at his belt freeing it, inching lower. Nothing. Not even a twitch. She senses it and gives up. His own digits rise her tiny skirt, crumbling it at her waist, he feels her hips shift as they press harder into the desk, her tights pressing against his crotch._

 _He feels nothing._

 _Her tongue swirls violently, her fingers tracing over his shoulders through his shirt. They move to his neck and then into his hair, twisting it, curling it._

 _Burying her unfamiliar fingers in it._

 _He feels something._

 _He feels the sensations similar to those Cora makes. But they're not Cora. They're Jane._

"Darling...Robert." He feels too groggy. The features not making sense. Dark hair. He tosses away from it.

Shapely blue eyes. He squeezes his own eyes firmly shut.

"Robert." Rubbing on his belly now, soft fingers, his skin is bare. He sits bolt upright in seconds. Eyes flying open.

He thinks he's dead for a second the scene is so perfect. Cora at his side (it was her hand that was spiralling a soft pattern) his three daughters sat the further side of her, all sunbathing, young Sybil soaking wet. Matthew is perched behind Mary and Robert spies Edith's hands are wrapped over her stomach, on the baby-so all wasn't quite perfect.

"Sorry to wake you, but you're going to burn again if you don't put some lotion on." He nods mechanically, shifting his weight so she can start on his back.

He tries to clear his thoughts again, focus on the different shells scattered around him, but he can't. He wonders if he'll ever truly be able to shake Jane from his memories. He hadn't told Cora about the kiss. Why? He didn't know, he didn't feel he could. It would make no difference after all, he'd done it and he still loved Cora. If anything he was pleased his dreaming had been cut short, he knew what happened next; he got home and found Cora with her old male school friend, drawing and he lashes out. He dreaded watching a play back of that in his mind. The images were always sharper, the crestfallen turn of her face obvious to him in the hindsight of his dream. The words were always stronger too, they echoed somehow in a way that they hadn't that ghastly night. And the aching, oh the thumping in his head after he'd drowned too many glasses of alcohol and stumbled to their bedroom only to find that in fact she'd moved, taken half the bedding and found a bed in a different room of the house. That was usually when he woke.

"You were having another of those dreams weren't you?" He nods meekly and she continues massaging, accepting his words with her usual positive attitude. He'd been having the dreams since the event which now dated to about six weeks ago- the beginning of March.

Her hands still and he turns, assuming she's finished. What he turns to find is her staring. Staring long and hard to a figure not that far in the distance. A topless, young, male figure. She doesn't appear to notice him turning, her eyes stay transfixed as he bends to admire some shells. Robert notes with some dismay that both Edith and Mary are now perched on their elbows admiring this same gentleman as well. He pinches at Cora's waist and her gaze finally drops, a rose sheen colouring her dimples as she sees his face.

"I'm right here and can see your excessive staring."

"Sorry." She drops down onto her hunches and let's her fingers rest awkwardly in her lap. He could tell he had unnerved her, catching her out and he felt bad. There were too many connotations to events not yet far enough in their past for such moments of digression to be taken lightly. The irony was it was him, it seemed, that needed an eye kept on, not her. He had just embarrassed her for looking at another man, a man as well that it appeared every woman in the vicinity was watching like a school of hawks. Yet he had done far worse, he'd almost, very almost, broken the promises he'd vowed before God, to the woman sat before him who had been previously so badly abused. If she ever found out she would be a dead woman and he suspected her family would make him a dead man.

Her cheek is soft, not perhaps as smooth as it once was, but soft. It emits a heat too, a slow reassuring heat. It spreads to her forehead as he brushes his thumb further, nearer to her ear. His fingers fall into the hair behind her ears, the chocolate locks that shimmer down to their shoulders- they are dry, despite their early adventures in the sea. His thumb meanwhile takes the detour over her ear, dipping over the lip at one point before tracing from the top of her lobe to the top, marvelling over the curl that runs so perfectly around the oval shape.

"No, I'm the one that should be sorry. It was harsh of me to be rude."

"But you were momentarily jealous?" Her eyes are twinkling and he sees in them her forgiveness. As for jealous, was he? He just nods watching her roll her eyes as he thinks. Yes...jealous. Yes...maybe that was the strange tingling in his veins that seemed to be slowing. The thumping that hammered gently on the edge of his scull as though forcing him to be harsh, to cut her down. Yes...yes, he had been, was, jealous.

"How jealous?" Her voice is a whisper somewhere near his ear, since he's adjusted himself to lay beside her, and he feels it whistle behind his eyes.

"More jealous than I should be when I know that some years back I looked just like that." He gets rewarded with the laugh he wanted, more than the laugh he wanted actually as she rocks backwards, curling her knees in towards her and rolling onto the towel. He hears a faint snort after a few moments and laughs with her, regardless of the children all staring just a few inches from them. Mary and Sybil are rolling their eyes, Matthew sits shaking his head and touching Mary's shoulder- maybe they were inspiring marriage after all- and Edith lays back down, unsure about the spectacle.

She finally stills, looking up at him from beneath those lashes of hers. And for the first time that holiday (though goodness only knows why it's the first he half wonders) he felt much like Cora, as though this was a honeymoon. Also for the first time he lies down next to her and whispers, softly, three words that resonate in so many of his memories, I love you.

* * *

' _Why don't we do something different?' That's what she had said, she'd decided she wanted to go to a restaurant they hadn't frequented yet. It wasn't too difficult, they'd taken a break for a weekend at Downton so the obvious choice was to go into York. They had found a lovely little Italian hidden down a side street and had enjoying the rumbles of Italian music as they'd consumed their pizza. As the restaurant was empty it had been twice as atmospheric. It had also allowed Robert's thoughts to wander, most namely to the last time they were staying at the abbey: February, for his father's birthday celebrations, it was now August._

 _August._

 _And as the long standing butler, purely for show, and the running of the house in the family's long absence, opens the great doors and ushers them inside Robert's mind can't help conjuring up those images of last time._

 _Her face as his father had announced his reckoning of her being a 'good influence for Robert, at work and home.' He can still see how her face had crumbled slightly and the way she'd looked down. He can still remember the way his father had turned to him, a stupid grin on his face before wondering out loud 'if Cora was good enough to keep on.' Looking back on it perhaps he had over reacted, yelling at his father hadn't been very appropriate. But at the time, at the time when Cora had peacefully excused herself and his mother had snidely questioned her appearance at a family event anyway: 'perhaps it was a good thing she left,' he had screamed._

 _He can still remember the flexes his fist had made, the surges of energy that raced through each finger. The boiling of his cheeks. The sudden strength in his legs that held him firm, the tilt of his head. And the hammering pattern his heart had made, a rhythm that hadn't been fear; but an honest sense of knowing he was doing right._

 _There had been fear though, afterwards, when he'd comprehended what he'd said, the faces that had surrounded him. It had been more worry than anything though, a dull ache wondering if he should tell Cora they knew. If he should tell he may have blurted a non returnable comment about her past. It had developed quickly as he'd searched the house for her, a thumping headache as he had begun to imagine her words; her spit as she yelled; her pounding fists on his chest before she turned away and left._

 _Carson ushers them into the library and he feels that final scene of that night a few months ago fall into place, he can feel the words, touch them. She'd said it in this room, cloaked in the darkness of the moon as she'd gazed out at his father's property: I love you._

 _He had expected yelling, shouting. He'd told his parents, his family, her past. The past she kept so secret. The past she had entrusted him with and in a moment of anger he'd left that trust fly._

 _That night, sat on the very same red, velvet settee as he was now his emotions had changed from anger, worry to pure confusion and uneasiness. She loved him but he...where was he? He was trapped. He'd known that then. Cora's heart would be broken most definitely if they split. And that was something they both knew she wouldn't survive. So, what was he to do if he never learnt to love her?_

 _The truth was though, another six months hadn't changed things that much. It was true this relationship was the longest he'd ever had, but it was also the slowest. Which strangely, he liked. Not that he felt he could have had such a 'slow' relationship with anyone but Cora. Everything with Cora was lovely; dinner, work, cooking, baking, sightseein_ g. _He hadn't seen any of his school friends for ages, he didn't need to, he had Cora._

 _"I don't know what I'd do without you." He pulls her straight to his side the second she's handed him the drinks and sat._

 _"Well, it is true you'd be incapable of making drinks without me." He laughs and she rests her head against his shoulder._

 _"I was thinking more generally." He thinks again if what his father had said that night- how much better Robert had been working since Cora came into his life. It had been true but only because he has a sense of enjoyment in his life that he hasn't had before._

 _"You're thinking about last time we were here, aren't you?"_

 _"Yes." He finds himself finding his feet, walking to that window, staring out, looking at what she had seen. He feels rather then sees her lift herself from the settee, the gentle creek of the springs told him everything as did the gentle shift of the ancient carpet beneath him as she pads across the floor. "I don't understand why you-"_

 _"Why I love you?"_

 _"No. I think I get that." The gentle meeting of her glass with the mahogany desk beside him doesn't faze him, he keeps staring, trying to find in the long stretch of lawn something that would make him understand himself._

 _"That's rather vain." But he can hear the twinkle there, the tease, he'd got used to that. It had taken a while to show itself, sure. But once she was more confident it had come. Most days he would trade her back, but not tonight. Tonight he wanted to work out the answers to his worries, the answer to her heart and maybe his own. "What I don't understand Cora is why you would burden us with those words. You trapped me."_

 _"I wanted you to stop worrying about every step you take with me. We've progressed beyond the scared, hurt woman and her boss to a mutual relationship. I said them because I meant them."_

 _"What is meaning them!?" He tries to stop, he tries to rein in the thoughts pounding in his head, the anxieties that had been threatening for months. He ignores her face- the fear he sees as she presses herself to the desk to clear a path for him. He turns his back leaving her in the shrouded corner as he moves over to the books and the door. "Were you happy I had defended you that night? Were you in love with the sex we'd recently started having? Were you just ecstatic that I'd managed to protect you from your past, make you feel wanted? What was it Cora? What made you want to ensnarl me!?" He finally looks up and that face, he'd seen that face. That day over a year ago in her kitchen, he'd turned from the kettle and he'd seen those tears, her hair hanging lank over her shoulders, her arms shaking as they pressed against the sideboard. The only difference was that this time her knuckles are going white as she braces herself against the mahogany._

 _"All of those things. For believing in me. For laughing with me. Taking time to be with me. And...and because I so love this time with you above all else."_

 _"I see that Cora. But why you had to say them. To make me trapped, either I'm with you forever or I break your heart. Why did you have to do that?" He sees her swallow. He watches as that first tear slips from her filled eyes. He knew how wrong this was, he was taking his anger on himself out on her. He'd got so used to a relationship where he was looking out for her all the time and yet now she wanted them to be equals, just as he had hoped and he couldn't seem to face it._

" _I didn't mean to make you feel trapped. And to be perfectly honest Robert you haven't seemed, since February as though the words had effected you so. And now, now you just decide to shout at me. To blame me for loving you. Surely you should be glad that you've found a woman who's willing to put up with your bathroom habits, your parents, your beloved dog and all the media attention!" He'd never heard her shout or truly realised how fiery her eyes could become. Nor could he have imagined how much watching her turn away and walk between the grand pillars to the door into the entrance hall made his heart skip and his foot thunder against the floor with a curse. She was right, oh she was so damn right. "Oh, and I quit. Perhaps I'll feel better if I let myself out of this rather than end up broken. Find yourself another woman to sort your papers!"_

 _Her sobs made it almost impossible for him to understand her. But he got it well enough. She was going. But it wasn't the sorting his papers and the failure he'd be at work without her (she did his figures sometimes and balanced his books) that hit home it was the loss of those meals out, her gentle laugh at his appalling jokes. Being able to buy luxury gifts for a woman who wasn't Rosamund._

 _It was too late, but he realises, all too vividly what he has done. Turned away the only woman he could actually see being his wife. No, he hadn't even turned her away, he had forced her away by being hurtful- by making her feelings seem stupid and naive. As though she'd said them to trap him. He was acting like her ex might have done, forcing her to think in a certain way, making her rethink her options because that's what he wanted._

 _The one hundred year old glass, definitely used by at the very least the seventh Earl, if not the fifth, shatters decidedly by his feet. The shards crinkle and crunch beneath his soles as he decides upon his course of action._

 _The hall was quiet and unmoving making the sobs from the gallery so much clearer. The echo, the long drawn out hiccup of her sobs._

 _She's got her face on her knees at the top of the stairs. Her hair falling down either side of her thighs, nails scraping through it, pulling._

 _"I don't know...the room." Cora got easily confused at Downton, particularly upstairs. And it was true there was a great many passages to get used to. Robert hadn't realised though, how obviously she seemingly relied on him when they were here. He imagined the problem occurred more so at night when every corridor looked much the same. The third factor was undoubtedly the fact they were using a different bedroom to last time. Whereas last time they had been down a corridor off the corner of he west side into one of the towers, this time they were in the Mercia bedroom on the south side. Carson had done this, he had announced because of the tours that would be running the following morning- the house was open to the public after all- and the Mercia bedroom being at the end of the south corridor that it could be roped off easily enough and it had an ensuite so there would be no embarrassment for them or the public with pyjama trips to the bathrooms. Cora had announced that she was sure they'd be up by which had made the butler chortle that the first tour was at eight-thirty._

 _But that image doesn't make him laugh as it had. Not when she pushes his arms away refusing his assistance._

 _"Cora. Let me carry you."_

 _"I can walk." She makes to stand but almost topples like a drunkard. He catches her, lifting her easily into his arms. "I don't want you sleeping with me." Robert's eyes close only for a second but he wants to growl out loud. He had so wanted this weekend to be special, to be an opportunity for them to enjoy the beauties of Downton but it seemed it was doomed to be a disaster. Look at them, Friday night and all she wanted was never to see him again._

 _"I'll sleep on the floor." The Mercia bedroom had a turquoise wallpaper and it had always been his favourite. The walls seemed to reek of women that had lived in it as their own for the last century._

 _He goes to lower her to the bed but she's already there, turning in his arms to fall onto it. He finds her suitcase and rifles through it for some pyjamas only to find the only nightdress she has packed is a new one, in silk, short and for Cora the most risqué he'd ever seen. He tries so hard to block that image, to close off the thoughts of her wearing it but he can't._

 _The fabric slips through his fingers to the floor as he stands there. He doesn't notice she's shifted on the bed, that she is behind him. He doesn't notice until she swipes the maroon silk from the floor._

 _"I should have known. God I should have known. Secretary. Sex. That's all it ever was. You dallied along waiting for me, I was doing a fine job in the office so it saved you all that interview bullshit. But now...now you've decided commitment is too much when there's thousands of women you might like better!"_

 _"'Like' Cora. You think this is about 'like' and sex appeal? It was never that, not with you. You're the only girlfriend that's ever visited this house. You're the only girlfriend who has met my sister. You're the only girlfriend that's lasted longer than six months. We've been dating seventeen months and you think this is just about 'like'!?" He feels the pressure of his hands in his hair and the pulse in his ears. But it's the sound of his voice, the cracking, the tears that make paths down his cheeks that amaze him. Her image stock still in the doorway becoming blurry, the maroon dressing gown she holds turning black as all real colours fade leaving him with only black and white. "God Cora I'd rather fight with you than make love to any other woman."_

 _"Make love?" She's watching him earnestly he is sure. Had he really said...yes, he had. He'd said 'love.' To Cora. But that wasn't really what he was thinking, was it. Did he mean that having sex with Cora was 'making love' or had he just adopted the phrase?_

 _"I don't want to be with any other woman Cora. Simple." She stays put, still in the bathroom doorway her puffy eyes watching him, softening from the harsh lines they had created earlier. But she doesn't step towards him. "I love being with you. The time we spend together is time I look forward to. I want those hours everyday." That was it. That was all of it._

 _"So you don't want me to go? You don't actually feel trapped by the fact I've said I love you?"_

 _"I thought I was trapped but I think...I do want to be trapped by you." She chuckles this time and Robert can't work out what's amusing her so. She disappears into the bathroom but he can still hear her moments of laughter. He gives her a moment removing his shoes and socks and pushing away some of the buttons on his shirt- they made for a far too claustrophobic feeling._

 _Her gentle chuckle reaches him again and he looks up from his perch on the bed to find he can see her, standing at the wash basin watching him in the mirror and chuckling. He slips through the door, desperate to decide what it is that makes her smile so after all those tears. Her makeup that had streaked her face is all removed leaving the white porcelain pink from rubbing. She giggles again as he stretches his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. He's pleased to finally see her smiling again and the image in the mirror of the two of them makes him reach for his phone. With some awkward twisting and a great deal more laughing they finally get the camera facing them at the right angle to get them both in the frame._

 _"So what exactly was it that was so funny when I was in the bedroom?"_

 _"Just how you never managed to say the words 'I,' 'love' and 'you' consecutively. The first time you squeezed in something about making love in relation to another woman and then you said 'I love being with you.' It made me laugh that was all." He frowns at her, confused, as she turns to run the bath water. "It amuses me that you felt trapped because I've admitted I love you and yet the real issue is you're unsure of your own feelings. Which are, I might add, perfectly comprehensible to everyone else."_

 _He should have known that she had known what a turmoil his mind had been recently. It was odd, back in February he'd brushed her words off but in the last month or two he'd begun to take them seriously._

 _"Are you saying that I'm the only one confused. Because I don't think I am, not any more, not after tonight. I would have walked out and got on a train with any other woman challenging me like you have tonight. To be honest I've found a way out of every relationship after six months before you. Because you, Miss Cora Levinson, I love." She squirms in his arms where he has her pinned gently to the bath at her knees._

 _"Still not quite the right order of words." She chuckles as she pulls her daffodil blouse over her head._

 _"I love you." And then he kisses her. It always feels wonderful to kiss her. But this time, this time it feels so free. As though she is endless, that her taste could go on forever._


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Sorry, late update! Long story! Hope you enjoy and if you do don't hesitate to drop me a line at the end!

* * *

 _Virgin of the Rocks. Millions of others came to see the Mona Lisa. But she was far more taken by the presentation of Virgin Mary and her 'immaculate conception' the idea that she herself was free of the original sin created by Adam and Eve. And that her son, the saviour, Son of God was so as well. Mary sits in the centre seemingly transparent like an angel, perfect.  
_

 _It was the brush strokes and the colours. Oh, the shades of cerise that adorned the Angel on the right. The navy's that cloaked Mary. The details of all the features but more so, Cora found the the depth created by the background fascinating. The rocky surround jarring back to the opening of this cave with the light beyond that yet it seemingly came from above. Almost a suggestion of Christ's destination, of his father watching over him._

 _"You may have seen the second version, probably painted later in Leonardo's lifetime in the National Gallery. There is however a question mark over whether-"_

 _"It was entirely painted by Di Vinci." He knew his stuff this young tour guide but he was frightfully full of himself. He leads them to the next piece, through the crowds, talking to her as they go. Flirting._

 _"I can't imagine you find life in England easy after America Miss Levinson. You should try Paris I think it would be more to your liking. All the art. The quiet life. A man who shared your interests." The earthy brown eyes flash up, his head dipping towards her as he drops his voice. Robert who walks to her right just behind them doesn't see, too engrossed in checking the time._

 _It was the fourth, perhaps the fifth comment the man had made and Cora was feeling anxious. She just wanted to enjoy the art and her long weekend with Robert. Yet, he was despondent. He'd been willing, after the laze in the hotel that morning to bring her here- he even said it had been his plan for one of the day's knowing how fond she was of art- but after the first half an hour he had started checking his watch at every turn and obviously ignoring Henri. That had been two hours ago, yet he plodded along beside her, asking what she thought, whether she liked it, but never anything artistic. On that score he had no views what so ever. But then she had no views of cricket, well none that he would like to hear but he enjoyed it so she went along and watched just as he did now. The difference was when she went to his cricket games she hadn't paid hundreds of pounds. For these four days they were spending in Paris he had spent a fortune on the accommodation and the dinners out and because it was their break, their first holiday together she felt bad dragging him around the museum for hours when he wasn't interested._

 _"Actually Henri, I think we might go now."_

 _"Why?" Both men ask at once, like and echo and as she turns to Robert she sees the narrowing of his eyes towards Henri and the protective stance he takes by her side._

 _"Well, I thought, you've been looking bored for the last few hours and maybe-"_

 _"Cora, you want to see the art. The museum closes in an hour so let's stay until then." He appears so genuinely content with this plan that she doesn't rebuke. Henri keeps walking and they follow, this time together, Robert's palm nestling in her own._

 _An hour passes quickly enough and my, it's the pleasantest hour of the excursion. Robert suddenly becomes animated, talking over time. Even going to far as to contradict her opinions of paintings and then helping her to deepen her own views. It was quite frankly a miracle to see him so interested and he surprises her greatly when they come to some paintings that he knows more than just an odd piece of information._

 _It's as they leave the museum, his hand pressed firmly on her back as he propels her through the throng and into the bitter air, that she laughs._

 _"You are so amusing when you're jealous."_

 _"Jealous?"_

 _"Yes. You suddenly became animated the moment you realised my attention may have been taken from you to Henri." His lips turn upwards at the edges, a coy smile overcoming him as his arm drops to the hip on her far side, his lips grazing her hair._

 _"That's what you think?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"And what would you say if I told you that really it was because I was concerned he was distressing you, so I became suddenly interested?"_

 _"Well...I would say, that I'm jolly pleased you do actually trust me after about two years together." She cuddles further into his embrace as they walk along. The walk is silent. Companionably silent._

 _The evening darkness finds its way across the sky as they walk. Stars glistening. Eiffel Tower sparkling like the central beacon, propelling all the stars into the sky around it. The Seine reflecting the pinks and blues, the yellowing hues of the faded winter night. The skeletons of the bare trees breaking the horizon with jagged lines. The water on the the streets makes the yellows of the street lamps shift and appear smeared with blacks and greys._

 _It's in their suite that she notices the vacant expression on his face. The way he's twitching his fingers at his side, appearing to flick at nonexistent pieces of fluff on the leg of his trousers. He's sat in a chair staring at seemingly nothing the next second, digits tapping on his knee. She glances at her watch, six, she still had some time then before she had to think about getting ready for whatever their dinner destination was tonight (Robert usually booked for half eight)._

 _"Something's bothering you?" She stands in front of him and stills his hands making his gaze fall from the ceiling to her face._

 _"No. I'm fine. Just wondering..." His eyes fall away from her again, he was lying. She_ _pushes his hands away and sits carefully on his lap, resting her face by his neck._

" _You're worrying. Now, why don't you tell me why?" And then, he does something she doesn't quite expect, but realises she should have done. He kisses her, twisting his tongue into all those corners of her mouth she hadn't known existed before Robert. She instinctively responds and within a moment he's lifted her to the bed and is pulling away her woolly jumper and sliding his cold hands over her warm skin._

 _His lips move to press at her neck, at her favourite little spot but he can't sustain the patterns on her stomach as he usually does which means only one thing: he is using her as a distraction, no doubt from his thoughts._

 _"Robert, stop." She knows he will, that isn't an issue._

 _"Sorry, did something I do not-" she silences him with a finger to his lips._

 _"It was lovely. But you're trying to distract yourself. Tell me, what is it?" He flops onto his back by her side, the halves of his shirt falling into the bed and exposing the flesh she so enjoyed running her fingers over. But she resists the sensation watching his face screw up._

 _"On this day a year ago you said you loved me. But I feel that we haven't moved forward since then, that somehow you're waiting for something and...I can't work it out and I'm just confused." She chews the inside of her lip for half a second._

 _"I think we've come a very long way. Look at us, on holiday together."_

 _"Holiday! It's four days, not even that. I don't deserve you Cora that's the thing, and every time I plan something like this I have such high expectations of how it's going to be and then...then I think it falls flat." He's sat up in front of her, clutching her hands, rubbing his thumbs harshly over her knuckles._

 _"Nothing falls flat. I love every minute. I love you Robert. And I don't care if it takes you two days or another two years to realise what you want as long as, in that selfish way of mine, it involves me."_

 _"I know what I want. But what do you want?" She very almost asks what it is he wants, whether what is eating away at his mind is what she dreams about. A simple wedding, as simple as it can be when he is who he is, at Downton. But she doesn't want to push him, he'd been so very generous with her odd situation two years ago it wasn't time to push Robert into commitment._

 _"I want you."_

 _"Which although very sentimental of you. Doesn't tell me exactly what you want from me." She almost lies, she very almost contemplates telling him she's not sure. But_ _she has never been a good liar, and certainly not to Robert._

" _I would hope that we might me married in the not too distant future and have a little family." He sucks in a sharp breath and she feels her mouth drop open trying to take the words back in a jumble of indecipherable sounds, most of which aren't even words._

 _"Good, I had been thinking it was just me that wanted those things." She feels her heart race between her ribs. Beating its own reply to his words._

 _"What made you think that?"_

 _"Your past I guess. I didn't want to rush you." She falls back down onto the pillow, delighting in the sensation of the air racing up her sides as she falls onto her back. The air being forced from that space up around her. She also delights in the way he watches her, in two years that look hadn't got old._

 _"I love you Robert. As I've already said once in the last five minutes. That's all that matters."_

 _"But it's not is it?" He leans over her and kisses her stomach. Before nudging his nose between her breasts. As she reaches for his hair he takes her wrists, holding her arms far above her head with one hand as he continues to kiss and nibble at all the places she enjoyed so very much. "Women have certain expectations of proposals and weddings. They have dreams from when they were young. What I want to know is what yours are."_

 _He releases her pinned hands dropping from his stance above her to beside her. She gets that thrill again of the cool air racing from its place as his body fills it and shooting over her stomach. He pulls her close, keeping his left hand splayed on her back, his right toying with her hair._

 _Proposals. Weddings. Dreams. No, she didn't have any dream proposals but she did have certain expectations. As for the wedding, Downton. She had been to the grand house only a few times but she felt the Crawley's underused the true ancestral seat of their title and wanted to, if she could convince Robert, a life for their children that involved a great deal of the country and that home and prove it is a good thing. But that was a long way in the future, in honest truth it was just a dream wedding venue, a place women and indeed many did, would pay generous amounts for. She'd be a fool to turn it away when it was theirs for the offering._

 _"Not any from when I was young. The only thing I want for a possible wedding is you and...I'd like it at Downton." He arches his eyebrow._

 _"Really the place I argued with my Pa over you and then we argued about my feelings?"_

 _"It's part of you. And it's beautiful. We both declared our love there. And well, I think you should use it more. When we have children, if I mean..." He nods at her to continue, although his brow is as crinkled as she expected it, men just can't take the idea of children. "I think they should spend amble time there. Learning about the family and what it means to be a Crawley."_

 _"I often think you know better what would be good for me than I do. That sounds beautiful." He leans over and kisses her forehead. She presses her fingers to his chest, scratching_ _softly, just the way he likes. She nudges her face upwards trying to coax him into kissing her but he manages to resist with a shake of his head._

" _You haven't told me about what you want from a proposal." She really couldn't work him out today. Was he suggesting that he wanted to know? That he was planning to propose. She feels her heart begin to quicken, was this him proposing now? But then she sees his smile, the upturned corners and that twinkle. The sparkle she has memorised. He was joking. Teasing. And then her heart falls flat somehow. The pulse begins to slow but the thumps seem twice as hard, painful, inside her rib cage. Did she really want him so bad that this was her reaction at the realisation that, yes, he wanted to marry her, but not yet._

 _"I have a few stipulations if that is what you want to know?"_

 _"I do." He kisses beside her ear, his hand still on her back smoothing the skin._

 _"Well...seeing as it's such a special moment I would like it very much if you told me that you loved me. And then...a ring. A ring that I like that you've purchased without my assistance."_

 _"That's very specific."_

 _"It's only because when my father proposed to mother he had no ring and they went shopping for one after the event. His reasoning was that he was worried she wouldn't like his choice. But I think it's not a very good impression. In buying a ring I like, you would prove that you knew me." He grins, tucking anther firm kiss beneath her chin._

 _"You really have thought this through, anything else?"_

 _"Well a man has to be on one knee I think, otherwise he really isn't playing cricket. So, that shouldn't be too hard for you, seeing as you drag me to a game of that ridiculous sport every other week." He laughs against her cheek, kissing his way to her mouth as he fumbles with her bra._

 _"I thought you liked the cricket."_

 _"No, I like watching you run around in a woolly jumper."_

 _The next hour passes in its usual manner when the two of them have the chance: lots of kissing, laughing and talking. Cora relishes the time, the break from the office was good for them both. Cuddled into his chest she suddenly spies the time on the clock._

 _"I ought to shower."_

" _Actually dinner is late tonight. Not until half nine. The restaurant was quite booked when I called."_

 _"It's posh then."_

 _"Yes. That is if you call the Eiffel Tower restaurant posh." Cora isn't sure she hears him right, but she's sure when he kisses her on the forehead at her gasp._

 _"Robert, you shouldn't have."_

 _"Of course I should. When else am I going to take a woman to the Eiffel Tour restaurant?"_

* * *

Cora didn't know why it was that memory that had sprung to mind. Maybe it was the way he was lounged next to her, admiring her obviously from his lounger and occasionally moving his hand to hers, brushing at a section of her arm. That had been how they'd laid that early evening in Paris, next to each other arms touching.

She'd often wondered about that night in the months and years that had followed. She still wondered now. They'd never talked of the future until that trip to Paris and then didn't speak of it again until he proposed five months later on a hot summers night in July.

"Robert?"

"Um?" His hand creeps a little up her arm but she takes it, caressing it between her own.

"Do you remember Paris?"

"Of course I remember, it was our first trip abroad together. Our first trip anyway together that wasn't Downton."

"That conversation we had before the dinner at the Eiffel Tower." He takes his hand from hers, rolling onto his back, and grumbles an inaudible reply. "Did I put you off. Did I stop you..."

"Proposing?" His hand runs through his hair, his elbow blocking her view of his face. But it doesn't stop her from knowing. She knows him too well. The hand in the hair was an anxiety habit.

"I did." He nods meekly, turning back to take her hand. He knew her so well, he had guessed that the first thing that would happen would be her feeling stupid.

"In hindsight we needed that time to be sure." She doesn't disagree with that but it doesn't change that all of a sudden she feels as though she made him uncomfortable, something she said that afternoon had changed his mind. Made him doubt himself. And when he, for two years had been taking doubt away from her, making her confident again it was odd to think that in just a few words she had shattered his seemingly unfailing spirit.

"Which part was it?" His hands rub at his scalp again. She can tell he is weighing up the thought of telling her, his eyebrows knit together and then fall apart.

"Guess." She thought again of her three stipulations: ring, one knee and words of love. Which one might Robert have been unable to fulfil that night in Paris. Which one might he have been unprepared for?

"I don't reckon you had the ring." He sits up swinging his legs over towards her, carefully avoiding the pole of the sunshade that rests between the two loungers. He stands, careful not to hit his head. He touches her ankles, scooting them to one side as he sits himself by her knees. His finger trails over the inside of her knee and she shuffles higher on the towel, trying to get a better view of him, and ideally to still his movements on her leg which were all to tempting on a public beach- what on earth had got into her this holiday?

"And what if I told you, that the ring you're currently wearing was in my suitcase the entire trip? And remained in my bedside drawer for the following five months?" She cocks her head to one side, finding him entirely honest, his thumb rubbing gently over that very ring before kissing it gently.

She takes the opportunity to think more clearly about what's she had said that day. Desperately attempting to picture his facial reactions. The problem was, she'd stared at his chest for most of it. She tries to remember if there were any hints in his actions. She recalls how he'd rubbed at her back, the way he'd kissed her afterwards. Kissing her. A distraction. That had been a distraction from his worries. Just as he'd tired to distract her at the beginning of the whole episode. She reaches up and touches his lips tracing her finger there, watching as her nail reflects the sun that was seeping beneath the umbrella.

"You didn't want to get down on one knee." He takes her wrist, kissing her palm.

"I was an idiot. Too worried about my own pride. I didn't want loads of people watching me do that in a restaurant. To be perfectly frank I wanted the moment to be ours and ours alone but special. The Tower restaurant fulfilled the special part but in hindsight I'm pleased it didn't fulfil the other."

"You don't need to justify yourself to me. You played cricket with me eventually and that's all that matters." She sits up, curling her feet beneath her and taking both his hands in hers. He chuckles at her attempted joke and kisses her forehead. "You can do better than that." The sensation of wanting him to kiss her surprises her. She had never been one for kissing in public and indeed Robert had always taken careful steps to ensure they stayed from the gossip columns, particularly in the beginning. But these last two weeks had felt so care free and that panicked her somewhat. Nothing with them was ever simple, or disaster free, what on earth therefore was awaiting them at home? There was Edith's baby of course, but she was keeping that firmly to herself, particularly as Edith hasn't actually told her yet. But in this moment sat beneath the sunshade on the hottest day of the holiday in the tourist resort of Philipsburg- capital of Saint Maarten- all she wanted was him to kiss her. She brushes away the reasons why, the age, the hormones. She wanted to forget that, and the easiest way to do so was to think of other things. His lips brush, in fact it was barely a brush, over hers, his forehead pressed to hers.

"Cora...you're very emotional at the moment." It was typical Robert to sidestep the real issue, the real thing that was a worrying him. She drops her gaze, now really wasn't the time to discuss this. Besides, she didn't want to. Which she was well aware was not the right way of going about the worries but she just couldn't bare it. Her girls are suddenly big, having their own children in Edith's case and Mary was likely to be married and where was she? Old. Getting old. And she supposed on top of all the insecurities that had surrounded Jane and Robert she felt even worse about the natural way of things in which she now found herself.

"It's probably just the heat." He's going to question her, she can see it, the dip of his chin as he tries to think how to phrase it. The smoothing of her knuckles as he taps out his thoughts but doesn't say them.

"Mum, can I have a word?" Edith has slipped onto Robert's vacated lounger and Cora looks towards her. The hands knotted in the lap, over her stomach. Cora tries to drag her gaze from them, tries to stop herself from thinking about how her daughter was likely about to divulge the secret she already knew. But she really couldn't put Mary in the dirt so she finds Robert's eyes again.

"I'm going to take a walk into town. I'll see you later. Won't be more then an hour and a half." He pats her knee and grabs his shirt, and then he's gone, weaving between the towels.

Cora felt stupid, afraid to look at her daughter. She can almost hear Edith's heart hammering and the soft flicks of her eyelashes. She can almost hear them because she experienced them once. Sat opposite her mother that fateful day that was to be her last in America until after her marriage. That morning when she told her mother that she was leaving Simon and flying to England. She'd felt physically sick and her mother, whom she'd never much adored had held her while she'd cried and promised her she'd be on her side; that none of it mattered but Cora being safe and sure. That, she knew was what Edith needed now, the proof of her mother's love no matter what. A stone support that wouldn't flinch with rain or changes of tide.

"What is it you want to speak about?"

"It's not so much talk about as, needing to tell you." Edith takes a large stilted breath.

"I'm pregnant." Cora gulps, and nods her head three times slowly, she had to appear surprised. The moment seems to drag, both of them eyeing each other. Cora tries to decipher Edith's thoughts. What did she want from telling her? And had she told Michael yet? "You're angry?"

"No, goodness no. Just a little shocked." That was true, she was shocked Edith had told her, she wasn't sure she would until they got home.

"I know it's not what you and Pa brought us up to believe was right. Children come after marriage which doesn't come after living together."

"Edith. I had a similar conversation with Mary regarding those messages. It's true that's what we've always promoted but we don't live under a rock. We appreciate every relationship is different. And your father and I had a great many obstacles with our relationship that we've never told you girls."

"It's just..." And then she just a starts crying. Her shoulders shaking, the sea water mixing with her tears. "I don't want Michael to propose because that's what you and Pa would want. I want..."

"Him to do it when he's ready. I know." Edith sits up from the crumbled hug they'd managed to arrange themselves in.

"And the other thing is that I'm just so scared. I can't imagine being a mother. And you've been so good and I can't-"

"Edith. Darling. You can. And I'm here, right here to help you every step of the way. Babysit; show the best ways to do things. Honestly, I'm not just going to abandon you." She nods with eyes teeming with not just tears but gratitude. Cora always knew though, that children for Edith was going to be a tricky thing. Even if this had occurred in another three years when she and Michael had been married it wouldn't have changed her daughter's reaction. A relationship with a soldier, however serious, was always tricky. If anything it only grew harder as the attachment increased in length. Edith would have still panicked because to all intents she was a single mother. Her young age was adding to her concerns about being any good and no doubt the dooming reality of working at her beloved magazine less when the baby was born.

"Will you come with me to the scan?"

"Of course. Anything Edith that will help. Goodness I was a married woman and twenty seven before I was a mother and I was terrified. The only support I had was your father and you know what he's like when it comes to anything related to hospitals and health." Edith giggles then, brushing the tears from her face.

"And you had granny and grandma to control." Cora raises her eyebrows not wishing to remember the particulars of the arguments that had ensued over the hospital bed. Needless to say, when Edith had been born her mum was left oblivious in America and Violet had been abandoned with baby Mary in a flurry- Rosamund summoned as her replacement at Cora's side.

"The only thing that does annoy me is my new status as a soon to be grandma. I can see your darling granny having a disco over that!" Edith laughs with her and then suddenly turns serious. Her eyebrows dipping in a look that was all Edith.

"Thank you Mum. And I'll try my best not to let you down again." Her middle daughter really was too like her father, always apologising, worrying.

"Edith, you haven't let me down. You're so very strong. By far the strongest of my girls. Mary would never manage to live with this. She couldn't even cope a week without Matthew. How would she cope with a boyfriend who was fighting?" Edith nods her understanding as she wipes away the last of her tears and hurries back to Sybil who shouts to her from the water.

Cora lays back in the lounger admiring the sun, letting the heat penetrate the pores of her skin. She'd lied to Robert earlier and no doubt he knew she had, the heat wasn't effecting her at all. It was time to face the fact she was older now. She'd go to the doctor when she got home check there were no serious problems with how it was all progressing and get over it.

The sun is gently settling her mind when she hears a laugh, a chortle. Her mind seems to bring it to light as a memory, a figure of the past. Yet the man she sees in her mind has not face, no name. She turns. Her head whipping around the sun landing squarely on the back of her head. There's the figure. The man. Standing on the pier a few metres form her. On the phone. Laughing. That same laugh she now had on repeat in her mind. She'd been right. She did know him. And he was in all likelihood American. Who the man was she couldn't for the life of her remember. Why she wanted to forget him, or in fact, had forgotten him, she didn't know either.

He turns then. As she watches. His cap pulled tight over the limited hair he had. Sunglasses covering the eyes. His sweaty palm pushes the phone into his back pocket and he walks away but not before he nods his head in her direction. That's all she needs. The nod and she pictures his face, his name. The words slipping onto her tongue.

"Peter."

* * *

Robert had assumed the shop he was looking for would be buried down various alleyways. In fact, it was only two minutes from the beach in the first main high street. It appeared in fact as though this whole street was designed purely for women on holiday to shop for expensive jewellery. Robert knew a lot of friends that would deeply regret bringing their other halves into such an area- the bank account might not remain in tacked after all- yet Cora passed through these places without as much as a backwards glance eighty percent of the time. And today, today he was flitting his way from one to another on a similar errand to about twenty six years ago. He wanted to purchase a ring.

Cora wore very little jewellery but her engagement ring she always wore. In fact, most pendants and bracelets he'd purchased her found her way to her body quite often. But her engagement ring was the one she twisted around her finger daily and never to his knowledge, apart from in the shower came off.

After exiting the fourth shop of his excursion so far he enters one he recognises from back home: Tiffany & Co. A rush of cold air from the air conditioning relaxes him, the heat outside was going to get the better of him sooner or later seeing as he'd left his water on the beach.

"How can I help you sir?" He'd refused help in every other shop but he was beginning to remember that he hadn't been jewellery shopping in some years for a reason, he wasn't any good at it.

"Yes. Maybe, maybe you can." He sizes the woman up, fairly plain about Cora's age and wearing a set of classy, but not overpowering jewels, she would do perfectly. "I would like a ring, for my wife. We've been married twenty-five years so something special is in order."

"Twenty five. Quite a milestone. I have two ideas for you sir. One I think will be more to your taste than the other. As this is your silver wedding anniversary you could purchase a white gold or silver ring with diamonds. Or, own of these." She points to the cabinet below her hands.

The bright spot lights reflect of off three small rings. One is clearly rose gold, the other gold and the final one is labelled platinum. They each have a single line of tiny diamonds along the 'front' of the ring cushioned between the metal of choice. The one he is looking at is no more then two or three millimetres wide. And yet, he can see it on her hand. Sat below her wedding band parallel to the simple diamond that sat on her engagement ring.

"They are eternity rings." He could see that, he'd heard about them once, probably from Rosamund. What he could also see was the price tag. Paying for the label, the stamped Tiffany & Co, definitely came into the price. As the lady reaches it from the cabinet and he admires the gold one he understands the delicacy of the piece, it really was tiny. It was a symbol he supposed, the thinnest ring one could buy but yet it sparkled enough to make any other seem insignificant. It would lay almost unnoticed on Cora's finger but it would mean something when it catches the light. It would be like him always there, a constant, but only sometimes does he show his true value to others. While Cora always knew because he was always there- she saw him at his best more often than anybody else.

"I'll take the gold one please."

"Very well, that one is eighteen caret. Do you have your wife's ring size?" He produces from his pocket a ring Cora wore fairly often, usually on her right ring finger. He'd pretended he wanted to see what it looked like on her left finger when she'd stepped out the shower the other day. It had fitted perfectly and so he had pocketed it this morning.

The lady takes the ring and gently remarking on its beauty- he supposed she wanted to prove she really was good at her job. She disappears leaving Robert to peruse the cabinets. He's moving into the second atrium when he hears a voice he recognises.

"Yes. We've been together a few years. And well, it's the right time."

"Matthew!" His colleague swings around but all Robert sees is his petrified soon to be son-in-law.

"Robert...I'm-"

"Buying an engagement ring." Matthew blushes bright beetroot and Robert smiles. He could remember the moment well. He'd felt like an absolute turkey wandering into an expensive jewellers in London asking for an engagement ring- in fact he'd had to go back twice as he hadn't thought of taking a ring size with him the first time. And then, strange to think of it, it had sat in his dresser for months.

"Well yes but-"

"I won't tell anyone."

"Actually I think I'm quite pleased you're here, you've done this before. Which one do you think?" In any other situation he would pass comment but this was an engagement ring for his own daughter, he wasn't about to tell Matthew what he thought, she didn't want her father's choice.

"Not my decision. You've got to choose what you think. I mean you've seen my mother and Cora's can you imagine what her engagement ring would have looked like if I'd asked for advice?" Matthew laughs, which is something.

"But you're not either of those women."

"No, true. But I'm still not helping you. Mary wants your choice not mine." He huffs in annoyance and turns back to the counter. Robert ignores him seeing his sales lady appearing from the back room. He heads back to his station in the first atrium. But his mind reels, so Matthew really had made a decision. Cora had said Mary wanted him to propose, that the two of them had talked about it but then Matthew had appeared to go off the idea. It didn't look like he was 'off' the idea any more.

The lady shows him the boxed ring and returns the other to its place in the display. The sizing looks good, not that Robert was really in any capacity to know. He checks quickly for any scratches or marks but finds none, all the diamonds are sufficiently in place and he nods his agreement to the sale woman's price.

She boxes, bows and bags prettily while he enters his PIN into the machine. That was the final advantage of using a British shop, he could pay by debit card. He can hear his father telling him that it was a waste of money, hard earned money. But he'd learnt, mind you only since the man's death, that maybe following his father's example particularly in marriage was not a wise idea. He'd done as he'd done at the beginning, sleeping with secretaries and alike, unwilling to marry. But then there had been Cora and he'd forgotten it all. He'd started that life with her regardless of the looks his father gave, the remarks his mother made about being distracted when there was the Establishment to think of. That's what his dad had always done, work first his wife second. Robert had started to follow that appalling advice in the weeks that had surrounded February and March but not now, now Cora had returned foremost to his thoughts and would remain so. His bank balance wouldn't take much of a fall anyway, the bank probably wouldn't even try to contact him. And even he was another man, with less money Cora still deserved it. He was an exceptionally difficult man to put up with and she managed him and his children without fuss.

There was one immediate problem though. As much as the pastel green gift bag was attractive it was fairly obvious. Which meant two things- firstly that it could be easily stolen and secondly that Cora would spot it which would definitely ruin his surprise for two evenings time.

"Could I have a carrier bag? Only I don't want to ruin the surprise for my wife."

"Of course. Of course. I'm sure she will love it." He takes the bag and heads back to Matthew, calling him a quick good bye and good luck from the archway between the two atria.

And it's out to the heat again. The sticky heat that makes him crave for that cool water that he can hear sloshing in the bay. He craves for Cora too. who he can picture now still lying flat on her lounger no doubt contemplating the news she'd heard from Edith- they are going to be grandparents.

He wonders if he should wait a while before he heads back to the beach. Edith and Cora might well still be talking, there was things Edith might want to talk about and discuss, although he doubted that she'd pick the beach setting for that. He checks his watch, he'd been gone an hour, shopping had taken longer than he thought. He heads back to the shore, he couldn't walk much further without his water and he had left all four of his women at the beach where there was now no man to defend them from men trying to sell them various trays of bracelets and scarfs. He should go back and check they weren't getting in any scrapes, particularly Sybil who was nervous about such 'sellers' anyway and often targeted- she was young and pretty.

The sand slips between his toes easily enough, but it burns so quickly that he finds himself hopping awkwardly down to the water, a hundred little grins peaking about from behind books, and one set of laughter which she tries to stifle by chewing her lip. Cora. He skips the last two steps from the water to the lounger beside her, the sand beneath the shade barely lukewarm.

"Are you laughing at me Mrs Crawley?"

"No. No, of course not." But she's grinning from ear to ear and swinging her legs onto the sand she moves to sit next to him. "Robert?"

"Um?" He can feel a conversation about Edith coming on.

"We're going to be grandparents. Edith is pregnant."

"I did know." He'd contemplated lying but in all honesty he was hopeless at it, and Cora could certainly see right through him. "She was sick the other day and I was with her. She asked me not to tell you because she hadn't told Michael."

"Oh my, now I fell silly. I knew as well, Mary had told me." Robert smiles and slips his arm around her waist. And he's surprised to find her still shaking, and she wasn't cold.

"Something else is bothering you." She stiffens beneath his hand and he feels he has hit something. But she just shakes her head after a couple of seconds.

"Just thinking about how I'll be able to help Edith. She's going to be such a young mother." She stares out to the wide sea and the marine of classy yachts, away from him, so he can't see her face. He knows then she's hiding something, perhaps something about Edith and the baby but then he remembers the last time she'd had those vacant looks, when she'd seen the man. He glances all around him, was that man watching them now? Had Cora seen him while he had been shopping? Had she recognised him? He wants to ask but he knows Cora, if she was ready she would talk. She'd told him her biggest fears and secrets when she had felt ready all those years ago. She would do the same now. For the moment, her silence meant that all she wanted was his love and comfort.


	9. Chapter 9

St Kitts had been beautiful and the trip on the train had truly encompassed the cinematic scenery. High volcanic hills had been replaced with flat plains that the engine had scooted through. Children waved from school playgrounds as the train rushed precariously by. And precarious was the only word for it. The carriages were the height of double deck buses, suspended on a very narrow wheel base. But no harm had come of them and the sway had been almost unnoticeable. Very almost, but not quite.

Cora had felt a surge of her breakfast on a couple of occasions and had steered well clear of the rum punch being offered up, settling with water. In fact, she hadn't had very much alcohol since the first week of the holiday having been overcome with either a sickly feeling after drinking it or a preference for the water that was served at every table onboard. It was no doubt the hormones and she just tried to ignore the feeling. It was just a reminder of her age that she was trying to forget.

Thankfully Peter hadn't been present on the train trip, which had not only settled the apprehension that had kept her awake for most of last night. But it also gave her more time to decide what's she was going to do about his following her. She didn't know if it was just coincidence that he was on this holiday, it was a possibility, and she had seen him once playing in the pool with two girls. But the way he looked at her, but didn't approach suggested that he was on this holiday to spy on her. And the only person he could be doing such a thing for was Simon.

The obvious thing would be to tell Robert but somehow she couldn't. She wanted to know the motives first, the reason Simon was obviously trying to get in contact with her again. And well, she'd never told Robert that the man was Simon. He's never had a name because she'd always known Robert would want revenge and if he knew one of the man's friends was watching her closely they'd be abandoned at the next port for bad behaviour, never to return to the cruise company again. Besides, they were home in a couple of days it seemed ridiculous to fuss- he was unlikely to stalk her in London, he could have done that before now.

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, fine." She'd had a headache after the bus ride back from the train and had, without realising fallen asleep on Robert's shoulder.

Her side of the bed rises as he lays down beside her. He'd refused to leave her when she'd said she was going to lie down for a while. Even going so far as to order some room service for afternoon tea. She desperately wanted to go up and have a swim but every time she stood she felt strangely dizzy and an empty, continuous ache that reminded her of the feeling she usually had before her period throbbed in her stomach.

"Cora?" His hand makes a lazy pass on the dip of her back. "I don't want to tell you what to do...but, maybe...I know you said it was menopause. But maybe the doctor might be able to help...you've had some quite severe reactions." His hand presses harder on her back, circling, rubbing. She knew he'd ask and she knew he was right really. But she so wanted for the time to run more slowly. Everything at the moment was making her feel so very old.

"I will go. I just-"

"I'll always love you Cora. This doesn't make you inadequate or less beautiful. You're still beautiful and still perfectly capable of all those things we did when we were younger _."_ His voice is close by her ear, and he nips it once, a clear reminder of those such occasions.

She tries to let the emotions take her, let the soft caress stir her thoughts away from the secrets she was keeping. The looming worries that pounded softly in the corners of her mind however much she tries to keep them at bay. It wasn't Robert she doubted.

"Even if I change?"

"Cora. I made a vow to you. Just you. The vow was made knowing that things change in life. I know this has caught you unexpected. I know it reminds you of the past, of the man whose name is unknown to me. But I do truly love you." She concurs to his embrace finally wondering why she needed him to say it. She knew. Sometimes months went by without them saying it but it had never mattered before. Yet, at the moment it did. She thought it had been the menopause but she wondered now if it was more to do with the man she now knows is Peter. His mortality had swung her past properly back into focus. And quite frankly it terrified her. What if Simon came back? What if he met Robert, tried to hurt him? Tried to hurt her? What if he went for one of the girls instead?

The problem was she didn't know, she couldn't know until she knew if Simon was behind Peter's appearances.

"Mum! Dad!" It was Edith hammering on the door. Robert jumps from the bed at her clear anxiety and she is swift behind him feeling a wave of that nausea washing over her. But she stumbles onwards, there could be a problem with the baby.

"Is it the baby? Are you alright?" She and Robert talk right over each other, Edith standing a little white in the doorway. Cora's head swirls as she looks at her daughter. Baby. Baby. The word trips over her lips. Sitting oddly. Strangely. It was the thought of her young Edith being a mother no doubt.

"No. No, it's Sybil. She wants you Mum." Cora slips a set of shoes on. The pounds of 'baby' echoing in her head. Edith's baby was fine, but her own dear Sybil was seemingly distressed. "She wouldn't let me help her. It's just her period but-"

"What!" She abandons Edith in the hallway. She had thought Sybil was just disagreeing with someone's idea for the afternoon. But her little baby becoming a woman! Edith obviously hadn't realised it was her first one. No doubt she had thought it was just bad cramps or something.

Cora finds her youngest, fiercest daughter leaning against the sink in the bathroom. Her hair falling about over her face and the gentle sniffles prove she really is crying.

"Oh, my dearest one." She wraps her arm immediately around her shoulders. "I'm hoping the crying is shock rather then pain." Sybil just nods, slowly but decisively.

"I had an ache all day and then I came to the toilet and I just-"

"It's alright sweetie. Now, have you cleaned yourself up? Did you find everything you needed in Edith's bag?"

"She's only got enough to last me today." Cora knew that might be the case. What with Edith's condition, she no doubt had only packed her usual emergency supply.

"That's okay. I can find you the rest." She herself had packed plenty, hoping and praying internally her period would come, just to prove she wasn't as old as she was feeling. But alas, it seemed she was. "Now, is there anything you want to talk about?"

"No. I understand it all and I was fine. And then suddenly it all washed over me. Something changed and...anyway, I'll be fine. I think I just needed a brief bit of reassurance."

"Well, that's what I'm here for. The first year or two will be odd anyway. Not very regular. And no doubt you'll be taken by surprise a few times but it's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"It's alright Mum. I do know. I have two older sisters." Cora feels the rebuff far more harshly than Sybil meant it, she knows she does but it doesn't stop hurt prickling close behind her eyelids.

"Of course. I'll go." She stands. Her arms gently wrapping around her middle as though she's cold. But she's not. It's an emptiness, a surreal feeling of no longer seeming to have a purpose. Her baby was grown up now and her other girls quickly embarking on the next parts of their lives.

She hadn't been sure she'd meant it when she had promised Robert she'd go to the doctor. But now she felt she was sure. The emotions were getting overpowering and quickly diminishing her beautiful holiday. Clarkson was sure to give her something, he was a good doctor.

"Was she alright?" Cora feels herself nod, but her thoughts aren't behind it. She's thinking of that day, Sybil's birthday. The smiles of the nurses, the ear piercing scream of her newest baby girl. Robert had been there, she could still feel his warm kisses to her damp hair. His hand helping her support their baby's head as she'd tossed about. She had been so very big compared to her sisters. So heavy. Cora can remember how her frail arms had protested at the weight that really wasn't anything. But she was weary, the long labour for a baby who was a little too big having taken it all out of her. She can still feel the way the water had swum before her eyes, the blurring of her Sybil's face. Robert had been whispering something about Cora being her middle name by her ear and she must have nodded in reply because that's how he'd filled out the birth certificate. But she doesn't remember that. It's the racing of those emotions and hormones. The pain and then the tears.

"Cora, darling. Please, don't cry." Crying? Was she really crying? She blinks hard the droplets falling into her cheeks. His hands are there, around her waist, rubbing on her back. They always soothed. He always made her feel better. They stand like that for what could easily be hours.

"Do you remember her? So small but so heavy. And-"

"She had plenty of chocolate curls already. Her eyes were so beautifully blue. And she tossed and gurgled. And the very sight of her made you pass out." She can hear the teasing. The gentle rumbles in his throat.

"I'd just given birth to your gigantic child. But if I remember correctly, you took a break at one point because you were feeling faint."

"But I didn't give the whole ward a fright. They honestly thought they might lose you." She leans a little out of his embrace finding his worry laden gaze. "I was handed a hungry, squirming Sybil. Buttons were pushed and you were hooked up. One nurse told me to go with her and she carried out the last few tests on Sybil and handed me a bottle and the birth certificate. I filled it out. Unthinking. Just staring at the baby girl who I was so sure was about to be without a mother. It was so very odd. Not at one moment did I panic and yet I was filled with a dull aching of dread." She smooths her fingers over his shirt, feeling the racing of his heart beneath one side, it's steady echo on the other. She'd heard the tale quite often, about the period of time she couldn't remember. The story of Sybil's middle name. But it still made her heart melt. It still made her want to cling to him and never let go.

"Well all I remember is opening my eyes and you were there holding my hand, kissing it. Cradling our little baby." His lips grace easily over her forehead but she tilts her chin up and he presses them instead gently to her own. "Do you ever wish we'd had more. That we had managed the four children we always dreamed of?"

"I'm perfectly content with my daughter's. This was how it was meant to be. Besides us men only care for the conception part, and it's not as though we didn't do plenty of that." Her cheeks redden, his fingers toying with the hem of her blouse.

"That's not true. You've always been a very attentive father." His arms seem to nudge her towards the bedroom. It doesn't take much to guess his intentions. They had just over an hour until they'd go up to dinner and Robert it seemed wished to spend the time actively.

"I hope I've been an attentive husband too." His fingers dance on her blouse again. She really did doubt whether this was the right time for his plans. Surely they should be taking a stroll on the deck and enjoying the last scenes of St Kitts but she couldn't bring herself to stop him.

The knots that were hard in her back softened at his touch. The tensing in her neck became soft as his lips washed over them.

"You've never been anything but attentive."

"I would say you're being too generous. You seem to have forgotten how we were a few weeks ago."

"Everyone has bad patches Robert. It's getting through them that singles our relationship out as something special." He'd taken her distraction with the conversation as an opportunity to unbutton her blouse and his fingers now hover over her shorts but they don't reach for the clasp.

"It was special long before then. It was special from the first moment you said my name in that accent of yours, poised opposite my desk as if to slap me." She arches an eyebrow but he laughs, pressing his forehead to hers and dipping his lips to find hers.

She falls backwards onto the bed as he tries to wrestle unsuccessfully with her shorts. Her thoughts try to find a moment in their past, a moment when she had first truly realised what she had in Robert. She felt it then, the twitching of her feet as he settled beside her, kissing circles on her neck; his breath making the little strands of hair rise and fall by her ear. Yes, his breath of her neck, his words shivering on her cold skin. Her feet moving on their own accord, with his.

"For me it was special when we waltzed at the Downton ball." He eyes her in a manner that she thinks is with shock before he grins and pins her beneath him. And then he begins to hum, softly and slowly, letting the melody form though his fingers as he trails each digit over her skin.

It was sweet and soft all at once. But Cora had a feeling it was only going to withhold the fire burning in her mind for so long. In a few hours she'd be panicking again and possibly feeling ill as well. She was trying to escape her age and Peter and Robert was even more than the ideal distraction; he was heavenly. He knew exactly what she needed.

* * *

Robert couldn't help glancing between his eldest daughter and Matthew. Had he asked yet? Robert couldn't tell, and quite frankly it didn't really matter, he knew it was going to happen. He couldn't fathom where his sudden reluctance had come from. He really liked Matthew. Yet, he'd seen Cora in a state this afternoon, a state being even worse than a usual Cora trauma. She blamed it entirely on the menopause he knew she did. Yet, he couldn't help feeling that she was wrong. Maybe his mind was just conjuring up desperate measures to try and make her sorrowful situation full of joy. His thoughts would steer successfully down that route and then all of a sudden along came that doubt and in all honesty his own common sense. He thought that maybe Cora was missing a level, she'd jumped from to period to age to menopause in seconds and yet...that first day on the cruise hadn't been their only condom free sex in the last two months.

That night after the kiss with Jane that he couldn't quite wipe from her memory he'd come home to find her snuggled (which was more like sat- but his charged mind had read that wrong) on the settee with an old American friend from school. A male friend. He'd flipped out, sending said gentleman running. In fact they'd said a lot of things that night neither of them had meant. They'd slept in separate rooms of the house. It was the following evening (Sybil having neatly excused herself to Rosamund's) that he'd come home to his favourite dinner on the table and the offer of a movie. She'd talked over most parts of the film, uttering some comment or another about how sorry she was or how she thought she may have neglected him. He sat and listened to too much of it, inching painfully nearer and allowing her to cuddle against his side as she always did during films. And then it had all been quite odd, he'd mumbled something about him being an idiot and how much he loved her and then...the next thing he knew they lay naked together on their lounge floor, laughing and chuckling together.

The image tumbles over him as he remembers how she'd run her hand over her stomach.

Pregnant.

Could it be possible that Cora was in fact pregnant. It certainly wasn't impossible. He hadn't told her his suspicions yet, what was the point? She'd agreed to go to the doctor when they returned home and he would tell her if his thoughts were indeed the case. And then there was the evening he had planned for tomorrow, he didn't want to ruin that.

In the mist of his thoughts he fails to notice Mary sneaking away and a pint appearing in front of him, a soft kiss to his cheek and a whisper of 'be nice' causing him to frown. Her shimmering dress wafts off between all his daughters.

The dimly lit bar reminding him much of the dining room at Downton, which when used properly with candles and all, had the same feel if the men willingly stayed behind for a drink at his mother's badgering of 'that's how it was done.' But this time sat opposite him are not the faces of men his mother had invited but Matthew.

"You know what I'm going to ask."

"Actually I'm not sure that I do exactly. You ought to spell it out." Matthew transforms before him, looking suddenly terrified. Robert couldn't help but smile into his drink. He'd always wanted to see what the face looked like as he was sure he'd made it when Cora's father had made a very similar reprimand.

"Well, I um...that is..I would be grateful if you would allow me to marry your daughter."

"Sybil?" He really was enjoying this game, although it seemed Matthew was catching on, he dramatically rolls his eyes, something Robert is sure he has picked up from Mary.

"No, Mary."

"I don't see the problem. As long as you look after her."

"Thank you." He clinks their glasses together, Matthew's shoulders falling softly- he really had been tense.

"There is one thing." Robert finds the amber liquid so much safer to watch than Matthew's face. Cora had asked him to check and she would be expecting an answer. "Your reasons for marriage are what exactly?"

His shoulders tense again and a hard expression lines the features of his face.

"I love Mary very much. And well, there seemed so little point in waiting. We have the money. And to be honest the week we spent apart last week was not to either of our tastes."

"Marriage doesn't always bring just peace Matthew. Every decision that was once just yours is now hers as well. And then there's children they-" Matthew splutters beside him.

"I think that's some way off."

"Perhaps. But you have to be ready for it. It's the biggest step. Full of the most wonderful memories and some of the worst. The children will come before your time as a couple for a time. And in many situations they always will." This holiday was becoming a prime example. Every time he and Cora had a moment alone that wasn't behind the confines of their cabin door one of the girls was asking questions, needing help or growling at their decisions.

"How do you and Cora find the balance?"

"When the girls were very little we didn't. But when they got older and Rosamund was willing to have them we used to go out once every two weeks, or stay in depending on what we felt like. But it doesn't stop bad patches. The moment you start taking those hours alone for granted and one of you, mein our case, starts using them for work the relationship crumbles little by little until you're climbing into bed at night and barely saying goodnight."

"Are you trying to put me off!" Robert laughs, he really wasn't.

"No. But I can tell you I'm far less brutal than Cora's father. But then I was tearing her across the sea." He could still picture Isidore, over the kitchen table, on his one and only trip to England before the wedding. He had truly looked as though his world was ending.

"Yes. Which ironically enough made you safer from the dogs he might send than I am from your dear Isis!" Robert was more than pleased Matthew was finding the funny side of things, he truly wasn't trying to put him off. But he supposed the last few weeks had worn away at him. He and Cora had always thought themselves above the whole jealousy situation and flirting with other people- but clearly in moments of anger or desperation nobody was passed it, even with twenty-five years of marriage under wraps. If anything the more years that go by the more complacent people become. Maintaining the balance was key, he and Cora had worked it out alone but then they'd had been older and far wiser than he felt Mary and Matthew were. He'd seen a lot of different women and was running his own company, Cora had almost lost the whole meaning of life and love. They had therefore been mature beyond their years, he didn't think he could say the same for his eldest daughter. Edith he actually thought, despite her lesser years was wiser. Michael's life and her job had made her wiser, they'd forced her too. Mary had just enjoyed university and was now thinking, and was very likely to, end up making sure Downton Establishment was doing all it was supposed to be with regards to the law. She was hardly spreading her wings.

"Honestly. I don't mean to scare you. But Cora has a saying and I think it fits here. Love is all very well when you're tumbling in the sheets but it's so much harder to say and fulfil when you're washing those sheets."

"I appreciate that Robert. But I don't think time is going to change what Mary and I want. We're both willing to put in the effort to secure our future and are equally prepared to disagree." Robert felt wrong, so wrong to doubt the man who had agreed to take on Mary. They were perfectly suited and Robert was in fact sure they'd be happy. It was only that he felt it strangely, as though he and Cora had pushed Mary to this, with their traditional values and he wanted to be sure Matthew was ready to have Mary properly in his life.

"Disagreeing isn't a thing in marriage. A man quickly learns that to say no is futile. She will always win if only because you love her." He and Cora had never had a problem with disagreeing so much as forgetting to check with the other and taking their acceptance for granted. There was only in two situations he would say Cora and he had disagreed and those either involved his mother or that one instance before their marriage, when he'd asked her to move in with him.

* * *

 _Her lavender perfume washed over his nose as he turns to climb from the bed. It was dreadful he thought on Sunday nights, when they'd spent the whole day and night together and then in the early hours of the morning he'd sneak home, or she would depending on whose house they were in. He was beginning to find it all a little tiring. The problem was he has only himself to blame for that, as he knows full well. He has the ring, he'd taken her to Paris, booked a table for dinner at the Eiffel Tower and had then chickened out of proposing just because he was unsure about getting down on one knee in front of the other diners. He was a wimp. And so, he was sneaking out of her house at four am so he could get home to find a suit for tomorrow._

 _"Stay." He freezes, quite simply freezes in the doorway, trousers halfway up his legs._

 _"Cora, go back to sleep." He couldn't do this now. She'd regret it when she properly woke. She had decided at the beginning of their relationship that this was how it was to be. Weekends together, but the weekdays were for working and the office. She felt that if they started a Monday morning together in bed the routine they had at work would be disjointed, or rather that they'd never get there- which Robert couldn't deny._

 _"Please?"_

 _"Cora. We'll see each other in a few hours anyway." Her unwillingness to see him go certainly made him slightly more relaxed, he had been contemplating for a while asking her to move in with him, and since his failed proposal he'd been toying with the idea more and more._

 _The lamp flicks on and he watches as she rubs the sleep from her eyes, her mouth wide it in a small ladylike yawn. He chuckles and half pounds, half stumbles to kiss her goodbye. Her lips linger and he can't help capturing them in his again, teasing them. Her little gurgles of laughter give him the much needed confidence and he takes her hand, smoothing his thumb over the tight knuckles._

 _"Move in with me Cora."_

 _Silence._

 _A short puff of air._

 _Silence._

 _The warmth of her fingers slipping from his palm._

 _Silence._

 _Then just one single word._

 _"No."_

 _"What? You just said you want me to stay. We talk about how ridiculous it is we separate in the wee hours of Monday morning and yet you won't move in with me!" He takes a step back. Standing from his siting position on the bed, perhaps it was a good thing he'd never proposed if this was response he was to expect._

 _"Robert that's a big step."_

 _"And the possible marriage you talk about isn't!?"_

 _"It's different."_

 _"Different how? Both involve the two of us. Together. Enjoying ourselves. Being in love." If his sister was here she'd tell him to stop, she'd remind him he was tired that he was panicking about knowing what Cora wanted fro_ _m him. She would remind him that the problem was really his worry about commitment, nervous at the thought of a marriage like his parents'. She'd remind him that fighti_ ng _was not_ _the way to find out Cora's intentions, that having an adult conversation was a far better bet. But she wasn't here._

 _"Different because one involves a commitment by you and the other does not."_

 _"Commitment Cora! Is this what this is about? And you think that you moving in with me isn't a commitment for me!? I'm intending on giving up my life, my house to you. For us."_

 _"Robert please..." He can hear the tears, he can visualise them slipping onto her cheeks as he grabs his jacket and heads for the stairs._

 _"I want to settle you into my life properly Cora. Twenty-fours hours every day all day, and what do I get, a no! No what?! No because I don't love you? No because I'm not ready? What Cora? What don't you want? I hardly think marriage is likely to suit us if we can't agree on even this!"_

 _"Robert, please...wait." But he doesn't, he feels each of the stairs pass beneath his feet. He hears her gentle steps behind him, her sniffles and sobs. His one toes spasm at the cold wooden floor she'd had laid in the hallway. He'd chosen the wrong moment that was clear._

 _"We're too tired for this. We will discuss it another time."_

 _"No. Robert..." She stands in front of the door, blocking his way out as he struggles on his shoes. He can't help but admire her, the unruly chocolate curls, the curves of her body. "I know. I know what you're asking. But, I fell for that trick once. Moving in with someone for me is a false sense of commitment for a man. It's a time frame in which he can dawdle and try to decide if marriage is in his best interests while the woman thinks it most certainly is because, well 'he's let me move in.'"_

 _Silence. It's him that keeps silent this time. Then his body forces a breath between his clenched teeth. Of course. Commitment. Promises. Trust. All this came down to trust. She had to be one hundred percent sure his thoughts were only fixed on marriage. However much she loves him and trusted him, however many words he spoke to assure her, she wouldn't quite believe him until he got down on one knee._

 _He stumbles as he falls onto the bottom step of her stairs. His face resting in his hands while she stands like a ghost across from him, guarding the front door._

 _"I know I'm a pain Robert. I know that is what most people do. I just-"_

" _It was my fault. I was careless. I should have thought. I should have known that you would need my absolute word. And you're right. I don't think your ex is the only man in the world to have used the 'moving in' card to try and prove he was thinking of a future even if he wasn't. We won't talk about it again. The point is clear." He's stood in front of her now, avoiding her gaze. Her fingers twist awkwardly at her sides, her nails scratching at the skin down the sides of her thumb nail. Her other hand wipes at her eyes, pushing away the stray wetness._

 _"It's not just that Robert. I want there to be something new to enjoy when we marry. If we have lived together for months before it happens it isn't going to so amusing as we try and settle in together, we will have done all that and we will begin to wonder why we wasted so much money on a wedding when nothing has changed. I think our marriage will be more successful if we enter it knowing that our life's are different for it." He was often blown away by ideas she had at work, ways for him to let this client down or make sure another one agreed with his proposal but they'd never talked much about the future, and yet it seemed she'd already thought it all through, and her reasoning was thorough it couldn't doubt. He wasn't sure it did make a difference. Marriage required work, all the time by both parties and he very much doubted the choice of living together before it made much difference, but he wasn't about to argue with Cora. Her earlier point about men using the idea to seem as if they were thinking about marriage was very true, he knew friends that boasted about such a plan all the time._

 _"You should go back to bed, I need you on top form later. I believe I've got lots of important meetings." She gulps and steps aside her arms wrapping around her torso as she does so. Her cheeks glisten in the dim light of the moon through her front door and he dips his lips to her forehead quickly._

 _The wind and rain blast against his face as he half trips down her front steps. Branson met him on the corner every other Monday morning at this ridiculous hour. Robert paid him extra, it was only fair._

 _He doesn't sleep when he gets home, all he sees is her face, a halo masking her face, the soft tears running on her cheeks._

 _The office loom_ _s into view at the early hour of seven o'clock, his first appointment wasn't until nine but he was happier sitting here. An empty office was easier to stand, the pile of work on his desk an easy distraction from the whirl of Cora's face._

 _Eight comes and goes as does half passed. And then twenty-five minutes crawl by as he glances up at the opening of every door, hoping to see Cora swinging through the doorframe with his coffee in her hand and her bright smile. But when the door opens at one minute to nine it's his client, a client he'd much rather not see. Gary. The same Gary who had insulted Cora at her first Downton ball._

 _"Morning Crawley. See you're without a secretary these days. Did the American job run off?"_

" _No. No."_

 _"Only I had heard that was quite serious. And you look quite downcast. Recent change?"_

 _"Gary-"_

 _"Only I quite liked her. She had a kind of-"_

 _He's saved from hitting him by the phone ringing on Cora's desk. He rushes to get it, if something meant he could avoid Gary he really would do anything._

 _"Hello. Robert Crawley's office, how can I help you?"_

 _"Sounds like you would manage alright without a secretary." The air around him is sucked in, filling his chest. Yet, her words numbed the soft fire that had begun to lick away and warm him at the sound of her voice. It sounded as though she wanted to leave. That this was indeed it. He kicks the door violently, closing Gary in his office._

 _"Cora."_

 _"You already sound worn out. Gary's arrived I'm guessing."_

 _"Yes." She was using a delaying tactic he could tell. She was trying to avoid the conversation she wanted to have. He could picture her, sat on one of the stools that rested on the central island of her kitchen, drumming her fingers over the granite as she spoke. "But he can wait. What is it you wanted to say?"_

 _"An apology for abandoning you this morning." He closes his eyes, she was a hopeless liar, even over the phone._

 _"Cora. I'm not stupid. I understand if you wish to call us a day. If you wish to move on. I was unfeeling earlier."_

 _"None of that really bothers me. You were just asking me something perfectly realistic that I disagreed with. But what did bother me was the last thing you said about you needing me at work early because you have so much on. I don't want to be your toy Robert. For you to demand things from as and when you choose-"_

 _"Again Cora. I was being an idiot. Wrong words. Wrong expression. I want you here because your morning smile and cup of steaming coffee delivered with a kiss make my morning bearable. My lunch break is so much more fun with you sat opposite me in the restaurant. My hours of meetings are separated by you with a biscuit or a joke. And most of all every day that we survive here together is another meal I can afford to take you out for, another weekend away." He hears her deep breathing on the other end of the line, he hears Gary's pacing in his office and then he spies a photo of the two of them, passport sized, that they'd had taken in one of those booths, propped on the base of her computer. She was grinning, clinging to his neck as he kissed her cheek. "Another load of money we can spend on our wedding."_


	10. Chapter 10

Robert smoothes his fingers over the mahogany arm of the club chair. He'd thought the hues of purple would wear him out but in truth he rather liked them. At this moment they were becoming mighty handy in distracting himself; matching certain shades on the chair to those elsewhere in the room was proving to be a controversial decision for his lone mind. Which was exactly what he wanted, anything to stop him glancing at his watch and checking his pocket for the thousandth time for the ring he definitely had.

Yesterday had passed very quickly and it was slightly disturbing to realise tonight was their last night on board- that they'd be jetting home tomorrow. He probably should have organised his evening alone with Cora for yesterday but she'd seemed so out of sorts that he'd changed his mind.

Shuffling behind him makes him spring from his chair and she stands in the doorway between the two rooms pushing a last piece of paper into her bag. It pikes his curiosity as it looks like a piece straight from a notebook, the binding having left the ends frayed and pulled. Cora didn't have bound notebooks, not ones that were smaller than A5 anyway. But he doesn't press the issue, tonight wasn't the night. It was clearly something she didn't want anyone to find, not even him apparently.

But his eyes move easily enough from her simple black clutch bag, far more taken with the white gown she'd chosen. He hadn't seen it yet that holiday, in fact he couldn't remember having seen it ever before. It was knee length, and had a chiffon underskirt; layers and layers of it, crimped with a glossy trim. But it was the trimming over that, the daisy patterned lace that covered the full chiffon that was so beautiful. Intricate and stunning. At the waist there was a thick band of white, the daisy lace stretching up over the bodice, two panels of opaque white beneath it that stopped above her bust. The central inch and half between her breasts was bare, just lace, and the gap continued to the waistband. The lace stretched high though, almost to her throat where it rounded off either side of her neck creating thick bold straps that sat above her shoulder. Her hair was loose, falling in its natural waves onto her shoulders, a few stray ringlets flitting down over her cheeks.

His shirt and bow tie felt altogether inadequate and suddenly rather warm.

"Right, I'm ready, and there's quite no reason to stare Robert."

"I think there is, you look quite stunning my darling." She dips her gaze and he can't help but smile.

The walk upstairs is silent, their hands wrapped together, the sway of her body beside his all he needs to keep him captivated. He couldn't feel her hip or her leg, nor could he really see them, they were walking hand in hand but he could sense her and that was all he needed.

The restaurant manager awaits them at the entrance, as had been the custom every night onboard and directs them to a table for two.

"You have come without the children, for your last night onboard. How pleasant for you madam." They follow him to a secluded table at the far end of the restaurant. Robert was always mystified how they could remember every face but they could, faces, names even if you'd cruised before they remembered. It made the experience more personal than anyone could dream of.

He takes the time, while Cora is settling herself, to admire the room for the last time. The pillars made entirely of mirrors that stood equidistant apart in the central section of the room. The two walkways that stretched to the two entrances in one direction and sweep into the kitchens in the other. Work stations dotted along them with waiters skipping between each other, large trays piled high on their shoulders. And amongst them he spies...

"Sybil?"

"What?" Cora swirls around, her napkin slipping from her lap. But that's as close as the conversation comes. Sybil speaks to the waiter, hands him a piece of paper, waves to them and dashes off. "What is she up to?"

"Nothing for you to worry about sir. Your menu." The warm smile of their waiter accompanies the handing out of the menu and Robert casts his eyes back to Cora.

"Our daughters are minxes, all these secrets." She just rolls her eyes, leaning over the table towards him.

"And we know who they get that from."

"Yes. Their darling mother. Who shines brighter by the day and becomes more and more difficult to refuse." The deep hue of her cheeks pleases him no end. They really did seem to be finding their footing again and he was glad.

They order and he just watches her. The gentle swish of her curls, the twinkle of her earrings, the flick of her bracelet as she points to the menu. But most captivating of all are her eyes, watching him over the top of the champagne glass.

"I didn't mention earlier how beautiful you look." She rolls her eyes.

"Don't try and flirt with me Robert Crawley. I'm still annoyed about you not having told me Matthew was planning to propose. You could at least have given me a heads up." He'd rather hoped she'd gotten over that. It was true he had finally proposed, yesterday, one day after Robert had thought he'd scared him off. Cora had guessed immediately the connection with the drinks the men had taken together the night before and Matthew's proposal, needless to say he was in the dog house.

"Yet, if I'd told you. You would have promptly reminded me not to ruin your surprises."

"You always have been good at surprises. Look at our honeymoon, months you'd been planning that and I didn't know anything about it until you handed me my plane ticket. And even then that was only half the story." She's leaned towards him across the table, painted nails curling around the stem of her glass.

"You enjoyed it though?"

"I was newly married Robert. Able to spend night after night in the arms of the man I loved, the man I still do love, away from the prying eyes of the world and your mother. Of course I enjoyed it." Her voice is hushed. A soft ripple of vibrations over the table. As slow and subtle as the champagne bubbling.

"And you've enjoyed this?" She'd been so upset the last couple of days, and so downcast in general over the last week of the holiday that he had been wondering if he'd made the right choice.

"Of course." But her answer was to fast, too hurried. More like the bubbling over of beer when it is first poured. And she moves away, sharply falling back into her seat. "It's been delightful to spend so much time with you."

"All hard feelings from before are forgotten then?"

"They were forgotten and forgiven weeks ago Robert. You know that." She glances at her lap where he can see the upper portion of her wrist is flexing- she was twiddling her fingers. "You know what's bothering me this week. The girls and how old I suddenly feel."

Deja vu washes over him and he feels his lips slip apart. His heart stuttering to keep up with the adrenaline that pounds. The hanging of her head, the fidgeting of her bracelet. The way she talks her words into her lap. He can see her clad in white and black sat in his office with the exact same stance, the exact same tilt of her head. Twenty nine years ago that was. Haunted and afraid. But she couldn't be haunted and afraid now, surely?

"You don't deny it. That I'm old now." He'd been so washed away in his thoughts, that he hadn't replied and now she sits assessing him, eyes piercing.

"You're not old Cora."

"And yet you didn't answer."

"I was thinking. You seem so distracted the last couple of days Cora. Are you sure-"

"I would tell you Robert if anything was the matter. Like I said, the girls and old memories. That's all." He's pleased the starter appears, she was lying he was sure. But he wouldn't push her, he'd never pushed her. She is her own person, he'd just agreed to try and negotiate his life alongside her own, he wouldn't dictate. Dictating had been what had let them drift apart. Besides this was to be a pleasant evening.

His prawns are truly delightful ad noticing that Cora's starter has already vanished he nudges their glasses apart and places the plate in the centre of the table, it had been so very long since they'd had shared food. He spoons a fork full into her mouth and she laughs as a prawn decides to wiggle back to the plate over her lip.

The main comes and goes over a long discussion about Mary, what she might want for the wedding, where they might find a dress, the contemplation of asking for Rosamund's assistance and recalling moments from her childhood. Cora certainly relaxes, despite the fact her champagne lays virtually untouched.

"Don't you want that?" He points at the bubbling liquid. It really was an expensive variety and her favourite. It seemed odd that she wasn't touching it. He thinks again about the way she'd eaten so much, so quickly. He pictures her naked on the floor of the shower last week and all the other nights they'd acted newlywed this holiday. The way she'd fallen asleep on the bus back from one of their trips. The crying. And now the crinkling of her nose as she said the champagne made her feel funny.

It all pointed towards what he'd thought the other day.

Pregnant.

He takes a long swig of her champagne contemplating how he might bring the subject up.

"Your dessert." The waiter appears at his elbow and he's perfectly ready for the simple ice cream he'd ordered, excited at the prospect of being able to share it with Cora just as they usually did curled up in front of a film. What is actually placed in front of them is a cake. A rectangular cream cake, beautifully piped with the words 'Happy Anniversary' and a huge '25.'

Cora looks to him with wide smiles and he shakes his head. The waiter leans over them both as the restaurant band gather at their table.

"It is curtesy of your Miss Sybil. She sends her best wishes for the evening." So, this was his youngest daughter's secret. Cora gets up and comes to his side of the table as the waiters burst into song.

It was a tradition on board, anyone choosing to celebrate an occasion was sung to by a trio of the restaurant's waiters who switched trays for guitars and tambourines.

But he barely hears the song. Cora slips into his lap, wrapping her arms firmly around his neck and judging by the 'ah's' that came from surrounding tables they looked quite the picture.

Her stray hair rubs on his temple. Her fingers smoothing at the skin beneath his collar. Her breath tickles his ear and if he closed his eyes he might think he was lying in bed with her. She sings along in his ear, her voice perfectly in tune and he holds her tighter feeling the box with her ring within pressing against his heart as she leans against it. She'd always been so perfectly right. The background sound changes from tuneful to loud and piercing; from song to whistles and claps.

"I love you." She hears him, she definitely hears him because she kisses him. In front of lots of people, with whistles and claps clamouring, she presses her lips to his.

She sits up a little as the band disperse, perching only loosely on his knee.

"We should have known Sybil wouldn't let the holiday pass without some grand gesture." He laughs, kissing her cheek and placing the knife he'd been passed into her hand.

"Together?"

"Yes, together." She nods her agreement so he covers her hand with his own and shuts his eyes. He wishes for the same as he had the last time he'd cut a cake with Cora- on their wedding day. A long and happy life together.

* * *

She unfolds the piece of paper for the thousandth time in the last day. She'd crammed it in her clutch because she couldn't bear the thought of Robert finding it.

The bright washroom lights make it hard to read, the white paper hurting her eyes. The black ink swirling around on the paper. But she doesn't need to read it she knows what it says.

 _I apologise for watching you. I don't want to. Simon has my hands tied- you know what that's like. I made a life in England a few years ago, a wife, two young children. But he found me and asked me to keep tabs on you. He booked me this holiday- knowing you were going. I've stalled with him, offered him little information but he's realised that now. He will come, you know that better than I. He is engaged to be married, I pity the lady, but that won't stop him. He seeks revenge upon you Cora. This is a warning, please take it. And above all be careful._

He'd signed his name at the bottom: Peter Wallace.

It was him, but Cora had known it had been him. She also knew that Simon was behind this. One day he would seek his revenge and my he'd waited long enough. But then Cora supposed that was the point. He'd lulled her into a false sense of security just as he had all those years ago when he'd proposed.

The problem was if he was coming Cora was going to have to face him. Robert would likely find out and there was so much he could never comprehend. There was many things about her relationship with Simon that she herself didn't understand. Waking up alone one morning not remembering the night before. She'd tried to forget that memory unsure of what it had meant, even now. Or maybe years ago she'd realised what he had done and hidden behind the pretence of her having gotten drunk. She had over time believed her own lies. Shrouded herself from the truth.

She takes a deep breath. Folding the paper away and turning to the mirror. Looking at the woman that stares back at her. The mother of three, the wife. The woman Robert had made her. She wasn't the Cora Levinson she had been with Simon, naive and at his disposal. She would fight her ground if that was what this came to. But right now it was her time. Hers and Robert's, he was waiting the other side of the door, likely anxious about her whereabouts.

He'd expressed his want of a walk around the deck and she'd agreed, the cake Sybil had ordered had been simply delicious they'd eaten half of it, but she shouldn't have eaten that much cream, she'd begin showing more of a tummy than was already noticeable from her three girls.

She forces a smile onto her face, pushes away thoughts of Simon and Peter, her age and steps back outside.

Sure enough his fingers fidget with a small box in his hand which he snaps shut at the sight of her. Which was intriguing because Cora could have sworn it was a velvet jewellery box.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." But as he slips his hand back out of the inside pocket of his jacket and grabs her hand Cora remains unconvinced. It seemed it wasn't just her girls that had been hiding things this holiday.

She indulges his chatter as they ascend the few flights of stairs to the promenade deck, where they could slip out onto the wooden decking and circle the ship.

The breeze is certainly tidal as her skirt blows up and she pushes it quickly down much to Robert's supreme amusement. He stands doubled over beside her as she keeps her hands clutched over it, the layers of chiffon seemingly unwilling to behave.

"Not funny Robert."

"I don't know. The way you grabbed for your skirt and looked around as though everyone was watching was really something." The wind whistles between their joint laughter and Cora shivers. He tugs her closer, the silk of his jacket pressing to her bare arm. He doesn't offer his jacket, which was his usual reaction to her being cold which further raises her suspicions as to the contents of his inside breast pocket.

"If you're not going to give me your jacket I'd rather go back inside. It's freezing."

"Can we just get to the front and look out over the sea and then we can go back inside?" His hand wanders across her back and over her hip- how on earth was she supposed to refuse that?

She studies the stars as they reach the prowl. The bright whites and yellows against the inky night. But it's the sounds that are extraordinary. The crash of the waves against the ship as it literally cuts the waves below them in half. Out to sea all was so calm and yet below them white horses frothed a metre or two high. You could hear the panting of the horses, the neighing as they kicked up, toppling their rider, it was all hidden in the echo of the slamming against the hull. The purring of the propellers could be heard as they banged and clashed in response to the waves. It was dramatic stood where they were- the world appeared as though it went on forever- the horizon miles away. There was a smell too; a salty poignancy that hung in the air, it was the scent of the open ocean. It was so powerfully overwhelming, particularly as her eyes begin to sting with the wind. Cora could suddenly feel what Rose might have felt, stiff on the front of the doomed Titanic. From this view you couldn't get any better. It was a perfect release. Cora's own worries fade with the realisation that the world was large and she had found plenty in it to be thankful for unlike many others. She would face the demons full on rather than let them take control of her.

"Cora?"

"Yes?" She rips her attention from her senses, from the empowering scene and looks towards the man who had made this all happen. She feels her eyes sting again but this time not from the wind, but tears.

He was a few feet to her right, slightly behind her (he'd always been slightly weary of heights) with the little box she'd spied earlier open in his hands. It was a ring. A beautiful, slim, diamond encrusted ring.

"I brought this the other day. Think of it as a late anniversary present." He takes it gently from the box and she holds out her right hand. The metal is so very cold, burningly so, against her skin. But his fingers are slightly warmer, and soft. It fits perfectly, obviously he'd done some snooping around for her ring size.

"It's truly stunning." The diamonds twinkle even in the moonlight and their fineness becomes immediately clear, sat on her hand was not a cheap ring. "You shouldn't have."

"I knew you would say that. And you're wrong Cora. It was a small price to pay to thank you for being so very wonderful. Twenty-five years has been a challenge but I've enjoyed all of it thanks to you. So as a symbol of my eternal love I've purchased you an eternity ring." She nods slowly, trying to keep the tears at bay. He clutches at her newly ringed hand, running his thumb gently over the gem. She falls against his side as they turn together to look out over the ocean.

"It's odd to think out marriage started here, looking out over an ocean on board a ship."

"Technically it started in a cottage a few miles from Downton." She chuckles against his shoulder, yes, the beginning of their honeymoon had been on Yorkshire soil but the end had been on the Mediterranean Sea.

"If you think about it lots of our important moments have been at Downton. You said you loved me there. We married there."

"How about we make this is special moment?" He tugs harder at her waist and she tilts her head instinctively up from his shoulder to admire his face. He leans down and kisses her gently. She turns her body into his pushing her fingers into his jacket, fidgeting his collar. He tasted woody, despite being a city boy he still carried that air of Downton with him. It was in his body and demeanour but it was also here, for her any way, in his kisses. They felt like home to her, just as Downton was his ancestral home. She feels her back bend into his arms as he presses more firmly, deeper. She lets him, it was true they'd had moments of freedom in the last two weeks, moments of pure abandonment. But this was different, this was throwing caution to the wind for love, much of their other moments had been mingled with a certain want of lust. He releases her just as another gust of wind sends her skirt high.

"Can we go back upstairs now?"

"Of course. But I rather hoped you'd agree to dance with me in the Horizons bar before the evening was out." Horizons was a bar, with a small dance floor and a piano that often hosted classical musicians in the evenings. It's name came from its position onboard- above the bridge- looking right out across the open sea, to the horizon. They had visited the bar on quite a few nights while the girls enjoyed the disco. It was dark and secluded, and just down the hall from their cabin.

"Of course."

"We don't have to." He's smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks, and she relishes the contact, and the way he stares into her eyes, seemingly hunting through them.

"Robert. I'm not a woman to turn down a hour or so of dancing with the man I love. And certainly not when he's broken the bank to buy me a ring."

"I'd break everything and anything for you." He lifts the ring to his lips kissing it softly.

It really was the perfect end to the holiday, swaying softly from side to side in Robert's arms. His murmurs of love tickling over her ear. She felt so stupid keeping secrets from him, keeping the letter hidden in the depths of her bag. Particularly after the statement he'd made with the ring. But she couldn't bear to see him upset with her, worried over her.

He'd moved her ring to below her wedding band- having admitted he'd felt uncomfortable making her do so on the deck, in case they dropped something and she found herself staring at it as it rests on his shoulder. And sat above it is that first ring, with the moderate central diamond and the hearts that flanked it. That ring that held many a memory.

* * *

 _The office had been hell all afternoon, it always was when everyone knew Robert was taking the afternoon off. They always flocked in demanding to know where he had taken her out this week; whether he'd proposed yet (that was the newest addition to the list) and various clients always decided to call demanding meetings or such like. Rosamund absolutely always called around for a cup of tea and a 'chat'. And if Violet decided not to drop in Cora left feeling as though it had been a success regardless of how much she still had left to do._

 _The other problem was, that she used to refuse to admit, but after two and a half years with him she'd stopped pretending- the office was far less enjoyable without him. They couldn't smirk about his clients or share stolen kisses; eat lunch across his desk as they discussed his next meeting; nor could she hear the gentle scrape of his pen or the tones of his voice as he talked on the phone. But worst of all, she couldn't turn and look at him when he wasn't looking, or indeed when he was._

 _Needless to say, early in August, the heat making the city insufferable it is a miracle she leaves the office at the six o'clock she manages- Robert had been gone since lunch. They were meeting for dinner tonight, at hers. He'd promised to try and go to the shops before she got home and she'd left him the key so he could let himself in- she'd still refused to move in with him._

 _Struggling through the front door, she still hadn't mastered how to use the lock and carry bags she's overwhelmed by the wafting of a familiar smell, roast dinner. The first meal they had shared together._

 _"Robert?" She wanders through into the kitchen to find him leaning casually against the central island. Wine already poured on the table. She reaches for the untouched glass and takes a swig, sighing inwardly. While she swallows she watches him, and ducks down to see in the oven._

 _"Are you worrying about my cooking?"_

 _"No you're an excellent cook. You know I think that. But roast is quite extravagant."_

 _"You deserve it. You say days at the office without me are trying so I thought I'd surprise you." She smiles and settles her hands on his sides, rubbing gently over the joining of his trousers and shirt. His lips meet hers as she tilts her chin to his. He kisses her immediately, brushing her cheeks with his hands. His palms were always warm, it never, absolutely never ceased to amaze her. They still made her blush as well, when they wandered over her bare skin. "Did you have mother and Rosamund or just my cheerful sister today?"_

 _"Both." Not that she was about to divulge what they'd been talking to her about. Robert mainly. And Rosamund seemed set on Cora persuading her 'silly little Robbie' to propose: 'he will never make it without some encouragement.'_

" _Oh?"_

 _"And your charming Gary called." She takes another gulp of wine, as he moves back to the boiling vegetables, the mere thought of Gary was enough to make Cora want to drown a bottle of vodka._

 _"Um I may have accidentally mentioned I would be out the office on Friday afternoon." He turns sheepishly a silly grin on his face._

 _"What! You must be joking. You know I hate him and you know he's a perve and keeps looking at me. He thinks-" He splutters a little as she keeps talking bringing her to an abrupt stop. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "I'd understand it, I would, if you were there to watch it and chuckle but this seems as though you just wished to imagine me suffering."_

 _"Will you forgive me?" He was doing his puppy dog eyes which she struggled to resist even at the worst of times._

 _"I'll decide while I go and change into something else." She leaves him to the dinner, which seems well advanced and chewing her lip struggles to decide what from her wardrobe she wanted to wear. She'd spied the candles laid out on the sideboard, and added to the fancy dinner he was preparing she thought she might wear one of her casual dresses, he'd seemed to have made quite an effort._

 _Returning to the kitchen she finds him carving the beef he'd purchased. But she doesn't miss the pause of the knife as she appears in the doorframe. The dress was a new one on him, she'd only brought it now the weather had warmed up. It was a simple shade of pink with white dots forming a close pattern. The sleeves were capped, the waist band pulled in, allowing the skirt to appear full, the neckline was just a simple curved one._

 _"You look very pretty."_

 _"And now you're trying to flirt me into forgiveness." He raises his eyebrows and she waggles hers in response._

 _"Did it work?"_

" _I'd forgiven you before I went upstairs." She takes the potatoes form the oven breathing in the heavenly smell. She did have to concede that Robert did manage a better golden crisp on his roasties than she did._

 _The rest of the meal is on the plates in moments and Cora finds herself hungrily digging in._

 _"I can't quite believe this was the first meal we shared together all of two and a half years ago." His musings are almost to himself as they finish discussing her afternoon in the office- leaving out all the parts where Rosamund had tried to persuade her to make an honest man out of Robert- and finish up the last of the meat._

 _"Well, this meal has been just as delicious." She stands piling the plates into the sink. "Why don't we have dessert in the garden? We could put some soft background music on?" She turns expecting to find him still sat at the table but instead he's right behind her, fingers reaching for her waist and pushing her hungrily into the cupboard. "Robert!" But she's laughing and he's grinning._

 _"I've been wanting to kiss you since the moment you stood in that doorframe in this beautiful dress." She lets him gently part her lips but the second she feels that instinctive want to push her fingers into his hair she pulls back- that would lead them to spiralling out of control and she wanted to sit in the garden for a while first. Enjoy the last of the summer with him._

 _"Did I-?"_

 _"No. No. I'm fine." It was so typical Robert that even after all this time he worried about what he was asking her to do, particularly when he sprung situations on her. "I just want to sit outside with a tub of our favourite Baked Alaska Ben and Jerry's." He kisses her temple and turns for the patio doors._

 _She had a small decking area just beyond the patio doors she'd had fitted to replace the dull back door. And they now opened up straight onto the decking where she had a plastic wicker settee and table. The cushions for the settee were kept inside, but the rest could be left out in the weather._

 _She can hear him plumping them up as she begins rummaging in the freezer. Her fridge was always expertly organised but the freezer was always a different story. The huge boxes and packets everything came in, and the odd shapes of the trays in the freezer made it impossible to make everything visible at the same time as it fitting. She does finally find the tub with the polar bear on the front, it used to be a treat for her on special occasions but since meeting Robert it had become one of her regulars in the supermarket._

" _I've got the spoons." His call from the patio accompanied the violent shoving of the top two drawers of the freezer. She breathes a sigh of relief as she finally shuts the door, the warm air from outside rushing into the space around her. She shivers._

 _The tub tumbles from her hand, thumping on the floor beside her toes, a ripple of pain races up her spine._

 _Her gasp creates an echo in the room. A short sharp squeak of noise._

 _Her fingers thaw as they find a resting place on the bridge of her nose, her hot breath sticking to her palms._

 _All her reactions happen within half a second, probably less, accompanied by the racing of her heart, the bouncing and twitching in her stomach as butterflies dance about._

 _What her eyes fell on, to stir the overdrive of her brain as nerves shouted and hollered producing a million impulses, is simply Robert. Just beyond her patio doors. Crouched on the floor. On one knee. With a ring._

 _"I know I should have done something fancy, taken you out. But the truth is, it wouldn't change what I want to say. I love you Cora."_

 _"I love you too." Her hands are by her sides again but it doesn't stop the tears, the gentle plopping of the water onto her cheeks._

 _"So, will you, Miss Cora Elizabeth Levinson, consent to be my wife?" Her head was already nodding, she had been for a while, since he'd started._

 _"Yes. Yes, of course." The distance between them is quickly closed. Her feet move from the tiled floor to the decking. He takes her hands and she watches as it shakes in his, the ring slipping easily over her knuckle and into the place the Roman's said led straight to the heart._

 _She'd stared, admiring her ring the first time a man had done this to her but she doesn't this time. This time she barely glances at it, she had years to do that, this moment was a once in a lifetime one. She pulls at his collar, crushing her lips into his. If she'd thought their kiss before had been hungry it was nothing compared to this. She lets her fingers run rampant in his hair, her teeth nibbling at his lips, tongue jostling for power with his. His hands drift down her back, one sliding over her bottom, it was very intimate for the garden but she didn't care. She felt so very safe, so very sure of herself with him._

 _He's the one that pauses for breath, nose next to hers, forehead pressed together and his eyes watching hers._

 _"You like the ring?"_

 _"It's not the ring that's important." He takes her hand, moving them gently to the cushions._

 _"No. But I do want you to like it." She finally looks at it. Begins to admire the weight on her finger. The weight that held so many delicacies. The facets of the three stones that sit on it are equal, all starting larger at the top and developing into smaller carved diamonds and squares. The central stone is marginally larger, the two flanking it are heart shaped and face towards the centre. It was clearly exceptionally well cut and with three diamonds, expensive. But it was very her, she loved it._

 _"It's lovely Robert. I'll be very happy to wear it." He places the box on the table and disappearing back inside reappears with the pot of ice cream._

 _They sit and eat, feeding each other the vanilla ice cream and frantically fighting over the white chocolate polar bears. She's leaning against him before she turns and swings her legs up onto the cushions, a sudden thought occurring to her._

 _"When are we going to tell everyone? It's Saturday tomorrow so mother will be calling, shall we wait a week, or-"_

 _"I'll be very surprised if she doesn't already know." He reaches for the champagne he'd purchased and had since popped open, pouring some more. Cora feels her mouth dropping open as he forces the glass into her hand. "I called the other day to speak to your father and ask his permission. He gave me quite a speech which I imagine she heard."_

 _"You mean to say both my parents knew about your intentions before I did?"_

 _"I like to do things properly." Sometimes she dearly wished he would give up with properly and just run wild, but she supposed she'd fallen for, and was in love with the proper man. She should have known, and deep down she supposed she had known that he had asked._

 _"I hope he gave his permission."_

 _"He did."_

" _Would you have proposed without it?" Her fingers slide between the buttons of his shirt as she settles against him._

 _"Yes. Yes, I actually think I would have done. I love you Cora and I'm a hundred, three hundred, percent convinced I can give you a wonderful life and that you will make mine wonderful. If your father had refused I would have argued hand and foot, tooth and nail."_

 _"I would have argued with him too." She's pleased to see his soft smile shine in his eyes as well. She can't resist, she takes her newly embellished hand and cups his cheek, tilting her lips to capture his own._

 _"The other thing I wanted to decide upon was where you wanted the wedding, and when."_

 _"Surely we've got time for that."_

 _"Yes." His fingers stroke through her hair. "But my dear mother will no doubt have a heap of ideas and I don't want them to get in the way of yours. This is your wedding."_

 _"Our wedding."_

 _"You're the bride."_

 _"And you're the groom." She has to grin at the thought of it all. Of Robert and her together at the centre of attention with all their family present._

 _"But it's definitely not hers." She fiddles with her ring, thinking back over what she knew of him, trying to decide what he might like. The grandeur and the style was him, somewhere beneath the business man Downton still raced in his genes. But would he want to marry there? She knew she did, it was a beautiful house and she didn't want to marry in the city- the city wasn't hers- she'd lived in New York for so long that London had taken some getting used to. But Downton, that great house had hosted them numerous times and held many happy memories. In all honesty she thought the house was underused by the family. Robert's father was not a big fan but Cora saw a charisma that they had overlooked with it being theirs_.

" _I'd like to have at least the reception at Downton. So I suppose the church in the village for the ceremony." She smoothes the creases on the inside thigh of his trouser leg, unsure whether she could look at him._

 _"Not America?"_

 _"Goodness no. My life with you has been here. America holds some fairly dreadful memories and it doesn't have a beautiful country house. Besides strictly speaking your family owes that house a lot, I think it's time you used it more. Became a member of the village population. I'd like to start that, when I'm your viscountess, and the best way to do so is to begin my link to your family there."_

 _"I won't ask you about those plans but-"_

 _"I'm only suggesting more weekends there. Being there for village occasions. Making an effort." He kisses her hand._

 _"You're too good for me." She doesn't say anything. She doesn't know what to say. "But a wedding at Downton does sound lovely if that's truly what you want."_

 _"What I want, is you. We can discuss all this tomorrow." He chuckles as she slips into his lap. She twists her fingers into his hair._

 _"I hope you say that forever. That you want me."_

 _"I wouldn't have accepted if I didn't think I could." As she kisses him beneath the summer stars she knows that this is what she wants. A life with him. A life in England. She'd rather bear the hurdles with him than the joys with anyone else._


	11. Chapter 11

AN: I've been trying to stop putting these notes but I have a few things to add this week.

Firstly, thank you for all the support, reviews, favourites, everything. Secondly the dress in the last chapter that Cora wears is inspired by one of Liz's (type her name and white dress into google and you will find it).

My last note is rather a plea because reviews for last week's chapter halved which has left me rather disheartened as I've been struggling writing the seventeenth chapter of this story as it is. You guys leaving messages really does inspire me beyond my own craziness over these two and doubles by ability to set time aside to write. So, really, if you enjoy review! And if you enjoyed, or even if you didn't, the last chapter I'd love to hear your thoughts on that one too!

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 _The pressure on his chest is heavy. Weighted and dark. There is a pressure in his hand as well. Another hand. But it was hardly noticeable, only a very gentle swish compared to the pounding in his heart; the pounding of black ink and smoke. It had resonated from his mind on the first day, poisoning his thoughts, making him panic._

 _Lord Grantham._

 _The words rang in the church. Rang._

 _Thank you Lord Grantham._

 _The vicar was so very gracious. Had dealt with this whole affair so well and yet he sounded as though he was belittling him. Forcing his new title upon his. Threatening him with it. He feels his body lift. His mind thinking of only the green that lay outside the church doors. It must be better there._

 _But then there's the hand, the soft fingers. The pad of her thumb gently tracing over his knuckles, pulling him gently back into his seat. Onto the pew._

 _"You'll regret leaving." His finger catches on her ring, the ring he'd put there all of two months ago, and he finds himself trying to struggle his hand from her clasp. Her hand falls onto his thigh as she resigns herself to his force. No sooner is her hand gone he regrets it, staring at the coffin life came into perspective. He needed her. The life in the flowers that sat on top destined to be perished. Just like his father. Like him and Cora._

 _Life, so much life. Perished._

 _Her fingers twitch on his pocket again, trying to be soothing, but all they seem to do is ignite a tiny bit of peace. He couldn't, shouldn't, feel peace. Not now. His father was dead. However much he might like it, it wasn't his to have now. He moves her hand away, positioning it in her own lap, careful not to touch her._

 _It was odd, grief. He'd never been that close to his father. His father had always been at work, never at home. He never cared about how he was doing at school or whether he'd won the latest cricket game. Even when Robert had joined the establishment his father had just given him his own office, on the same floor as his own, and told him to get on with it. The man had lived for Downton, but not the house he was now being buried at. Never did he like the great Abbey that had given his family it's name, all it did was 'drain the bank,' or so he'd said. Robert had always thought him ungrateful._

 _Yet Robert watches without comment as he's lowered into the church's Yorkshire soil. This was no crematorium in London this was definitely a Yorkshire cemetery. The wind whips around them, the air sticking to his cheeks, the ground beneath him is crisp with frost. But one thing was the same, the cold female hand that stayed in his own, unflinching. Cora._

 _His fiancée, Cora._

 _She and Rosamund had taken a big break from the wedding plans to sort the funeral. He'd done nothing. Nothing. He'd spent hours at work, the darkness spreading. The truth was, he hadn't even cried. And she was the only one that knew that. He hadn't cried. He'd showed no emotion. His father, his life and blood, his livelihood had died and he'd not let a single tear slip. Because the truth was the darkness that was spreading, the smoke that was suffocating him, penetrating the corners of his mind, bleeding into his blood wasn't grief. It was despair. Desperation because he couldn't grief. He couldn't cry. His father was dead and he didn't feel anything. A week had gone by and he felt nothing._

 _Nothing._

 _That was the single word that seemed to resonate in the black._

 _Black was all he heard and saw. He looked at Cora but he didn't see her. He'd look at a book but he wouldn't see it. Everything was tinted and stained. Cora was pretty, but he didn't see that, he just assumed it was so._

 _Someone murmurs their condolences in his ear as he refuses the trays of sandwiches that get passed around him. He can hear Cora gently thanking them and the woman's whispered reply that it 'will all be alright' as she squeezes his arm._

 _Someone else stands in front of him, he can see the hat, see the features of the face, eyes and mouth. But he can't bring to mind her name. Her words reflect right off him and he nods slightly abruptly, Cora seemed apt at filling his silence. He needn't say anything. They would think he was grieving._

 _"Thank you for the invitation to the wedding Miss Levinson. I hope you're excited." He doesn't hear Cora's reply or at least the vibrations to his ears don't get processed- fading into inky vapour the moment they touch his inner ear._

 _The wedding._

 _The wedding, that his father had looked at him oddly about. His mother had embraced it, rolling her eyes with a grin. But his Pa, he'd frowned and they'd fought. Not for long but he'd been cold since. Grimacing over the details he'd come to discuss with his mother. Not that it was Cora he objected to, oh no it was her want to embrace Downton that annoyed him._

 _Was it right to marry Cora now? He was so altered to a few months ago. Maybe they should wait. How could he love a woman, marry a woman when he couldn't grieve for his father? How could he commit another person to his life when he hadn't loved the ones he already had properly?_

 _Maybe he should call it off._

 _He heads for the stairs to find the room Carson had assigned him. He needed to think, to decide what he was going to do and he couldn't do that in the hall. So many people watching and murmuring. The presence of Cora beside him a constant beacon of how badly he was failing and how well she was coping._

 _The bathroom is cool. Clear. The air feels lighter in his lungs and the whites contrast to the black and brown outfits of the congregation below. The pristine white fills his mind, pushing the images of darkness and horror away. Demons are replaced by angels. Angels flying between clouds of cotton white. Ivory skin and blonde flowing curls. But there's one angel whom enters his vision who wears not ivory but black. Whose hair is chocolate not golden. Nor does she fly but simple stands in the doorway, head cocked to one side, hat covering her eyes._

 _And it's then as they stand staring at each other. As he truly looks at her, his fiancée, his Cora, for the first time in a week, that he sees her. Truly sees her._

 _The dark circles beneath her eyes. The way she appeared to be forcing them open to watch him. There are creases in her eyes too, the colour is more mottled, tired. The white of her eye is too starling against the dark centre. Her lips are dry and she has covered her face in a the thickest layer of makeup he has ever seen (it still wasn't very much) to cover spots on her chin._

 _And that tilt of her face meant so much. She was looking to him, assessing his state of mind not fussing about her own._

 _"We can postpone the wedding." Her heels clip gently on the tiles as she wanders to stand nearer him, fingers tracing over the edge of the bath._

 _It had been what he'd been thinking earlier and yet as he watches her fiddle with the cuffs on her dress he can't do it. He can't ruin those plans she'd been making for two months already. It would be selfish to let this dark period cloud the judgements that were to change the rest of his life. Her life._

 _Angels should be more powerful then demons. Cora was his bridge between the two. She was an angel, too perfect for him by far, but without her he would become his father, a demon, ungrateful._

 _"No. We've set the date."_

 _"It doesn't make it too late to change it. I want you to be with me, not away with your grief."_

 _The white peace goes. The Angels' tunes stop. He sees the fog again, encroaching, surrounding him._

 _"It is not grief Cora. I can't even cry. What kid of son is one that can't even cry." His palm slams into the sink, his foot kicking at the chair. It topples, hurtling across the floor to her. But no tears. His eyes don't even squeeze together to stop them falling. His vision doesn't blur. He still sees her standing resplendent against the bath._

 _"This is your grief Robert. Everyone reacts differently."_

 _"No. I haven't reacted. I feel nothing. Just pressure. Pressure everywhere. Pushing and squeezing. Suffocating me. Taking the life away, replacing it with blackness. I look around me but I see nothing! Someone mentions wedding and I don't smile and nod along, I stare at them not seeing who they are! Not caring who they are!" He slumps onto the floor, his face landing in his hands. Knees propped up in front of him. She sits down beside him._

 _"Because you loved him." Her fingers weave between his own. She pulls his hands with hers, and he feels the graze of her rough lips on his skin._

 _"I don't think-" And then he sees those memories. Mornings playing cricket with his father in the garden. Running into the Establishment as his mother walked him home from school, just to see his Pa, who would lift him up and ruffle his hair even in the middle of a meeting. He spies amongst the clouds of the white heaven birthday parties and holidays. It was true he spent little time at home but he'd always tried to make an effort at important moments._

 _The trickle is soft and wet. Gaining its own momentum not just because it slides down his cheek but because he remembers more. She wipes it away at one point, her soft fingers removing the water that reflected his love. Small but constant._

 _"I'm going to go back downstairs. I'm sure your mother won't mind if you don't appear for a little while." She slips silently from the room, the last piece of black, the last piece of doom floating away with her. And into his mind, beside the memories that churn around is Cora, perfect angel this time. Glittering Angel wings adorn her back, a halo sits slightly crooked on her head, a clear sign of her inner rebel and her dress is quite as gorgeous as all the others. Long with a full skirt and a highly decorated bodice- it was styled like a wedding dress._

 _He finds himself scrambling from the tiled floor, tripping on the raised rug in the middle of the bedroom floor._

 _He catches up to her on the stairs. His fingers slip gently into hers on the fourth step from the top. The black lace of his sleeve wafting over their joined wrists. He squeezes her fingers into his ever so slightly and he senses the shift of her face to look at him._

 _The black still hovered, on the outskirts, just as her dress stood steadily beside him. But it wasn't threatening anymore because he could see what was beneath it, his future and Cora._

* * *

It was the picture. The towering painting that had turned his thoughts. The plaque that perched on the frame with the dates. The dates of his father's life. It had been moved into his office at his request when Mary had been born, an odd reminder to him of what his father was hopefully watching- his building of a happy family.

Time off work was always a nightmare. The first day back was always total chaos. This time more than most. Not only did he have two meetings to squeeze into every hour but with Matthew's being away as well, crucial decisions had built up without thorough sorting. Usually he left his workload to his secretary to partially complete in his absence but when he'd left to the Caribbean two weeks ago he didn't have one- Jane had been demoted.

But the work wasn't what was really playing on his mind, nor was it his father. He was studying Cora. Admiring the way she flitted about the desk in the other room, showing Phyllis how the computer system worked, explaining the telephone system. He'd had Cora train each of the secretaries that had come after her. She'd been so efficient. Elsie had been wonderful for years until she'd seen the Abbey for the first time and fallen head over heels for Carson. And now there was Phyllis, she seems to him a sensible sort, a little quiet but just what he needs.

He wonders again if he was right. About the baby. But he doubts it. Cora had said last night she'd bleed a little their last day abroad. He had urged her even more so then, to go to the doctor and get checked over. Her symptoms seemed all over the place to him, not that he'd let on the pregnancy idea. Some were ones he'd seen before, with the girls, others were pointed at her thoughts on her age.

"I better go. I'll see you at home." Her call is from the doorway. He'd rather hoped she'd call back to the office after her appointment but clearly not. No doubt she was anticipating wanting some down time. Besides, she really was a distraction, and he had too much work for distractions.

"Home?"

"Yes. The appointment is at three and I don't doubt Clarkson will be running over. I'll be lucky if I'm in and out by four. And I want to be at home to greet Sybil."

"Of course. I was just getting too accustomed to you being back in the office." She rolls her eyes, slipping the door shut behind her as she bites her lip between her teeth, piercing it with white- thinking.

"Miss Baxter will do a fine job."

"Not as fine as you." He tosses the paper onto the desk, it flutters to the surface finding the piles of other over pricy paper as hundreds of men tried to prove their worth to him. His fingers twist between hers. He pulls their joined hands to his chest leaning his forehead against hers. His mother would say the heat abroad had got to him, or the conversation. But it hadn't. Nothing got to him, except Cora.

And the way she kisses him back suggests that something was getting to her too. It was as if they were stood on the edge of something. They couldn't see it yet. They didn't know which fork of the path it was leading them down. But it was going to be one of them. The journey to get to the fork had been long and arduous, particularly in the last months but they'd made it here, standing together, standing tall. And now they were about to be pushed down a path together (he had this distinct feeling choice played no part).

"Call when you're home safely. I'll worry."

"Of course. I love you."

"Good luck." He kisses her temple once more swiftly as she dashes for the door. Just beyond the door he catches Phyllis' quick turn, her sudden interest in her desk clearly to hide that she was staring. She seems to study Cora departing the office before she slowly tunes to him. Robert anticipates her apology which indeed seems to be shown in her eyes.

"You and your wife are very close?" She says it like a question despite the fact it's really only a statement. Robert just nods. "I was expecting something different somehow."

"It's the distortion of the media for you."

"No, no. You misunderstand me sir. I wasn't expecting Mrs Crawley to be American or, well, quite so willing to help me." He laughs. It was true many people just assumed he was married to some toffee nosed lady from somewhere. Not that Cora wasn't very rich in her own right, and she certainly behaved like a real lady.

"She started there. In that little office. A young woman who had fled her home. She was the best secretary I have had, and I don't just say that because she's now my wife. She truly was which I why I ask her to introduce any new one I have."

"Right well-" her hands seem to flit redundantly at her sides and she looks at them nervously. She disappears back into her office.

Robert has the distinct impression they are going to get along well. She was forthright and was definitely going to ask if she had a problem. And the slight nerves she was showing suggests she really wants to prove she could do this. Those wer what efficient women he enjoyed working with.

He sits down to his paperwork. Five pieces are done in minutes amongst flinging some dictations for Phyllis to type up to her email. She hurries through with them ten minutes after, knocking on the door both times. He tells her she doesn't have to knock but she says it is best when he's got such a mountain of work. He assures her they will have the door open tomorrow so he can get to know her better. She only smiles.

"Mrs Crawley warned me about that."

She has just left his office for the second time, returning to alter the very slight error on one of the dictations which was clearly his fault, (his speech is often too quick when he does them and for poor Phyllis to keep up on her first day was asking a lot) when he hears the district sounds of her raised voice.

"You do not have an appointment sir and Mr Crawley is very busy. He's a great deal of work to catch up on. Can I have your name and then I can check whether he will see you now or not."

"Just let me passed!" Robert gets up, this man was not man he recognised.

Opening the door however brings a different story.

The broad shoulders. Short, tightly curled hair, brown but going grey around the edges. This was the man from the ship. The man who had been watching Cora.

Phyllis' reaction suddenly seems too passive.

"Get out! Honesty, do you think I'm going to talk with a man who ogles at my wife every chance he has!?"

"Lord Grantham-" Robert sees red, he always does when he hears that name. He'd never properly got into using it. It reminded him too much of the ceremony. Of funerals surrounded by people he didn't really know.

"Don't Lord Grantham me Sir, get out!"

"If you will just understand that I come as a warning. Your wife will understand. Tell her he is coming."

"Who is coming. Baby Jesus?"

"Simon. Simon Bricker."

"And who on earth is he? Who are you?" And then the room topples as his head tips back, his hands finding the the back of the seat he had ready for visitors opposite his own. Everything suddenly makes sense. This was about before. Before him.

"She hasn't told you?"

"It's him isn't it? The boyfriend. The-"

"Tyrant. Yes." Robert feels his own breath stutter in his chest. He notes the pain as it constricts. The firm tightness that pulls down on his heart.

"And why is he coming? Surely he can't want her back?"

"I don't know. He blackmailed me, much as he did Cora all those years ago. So, I've been keeping tabs on you both, he even booked me and my family onto that holiday. But no doubt he's watching me. So I better go." The man turns to leave, showing Phyllis' frozen expression in the doorway.

"Wait. You agreed to keep watch on Cora and I but you don't know why. And now you're helping us!"

"Yes. Because in the end, we have the shared enemy." And then he turns and walks away. He remains nameless.

Robert flops into the chair. Accepting the mug of steaming coffee Phyllis places before him-at least that looked as though it was going to work out.

"If there's anything I can do..?"

"Don't tell anyone about what you just saw. Word doesn't leave this room." Robert doesn't know what to do. To tell Cora seemed logical and yet how could he explain it. Was the man helping them, tipping them off, or was he the true enemy? Was he Simon? Robert didn't know. Cora would freak out no doubt and she was already wound up enough.

And if the story was all true why oh why was Simon appearing now? Almost thirty years since Cora had left him?

The phone snaps him back to attention and he quickly snatches it up. Anything to distract his mind.

"Good afternoon Downton Establishment. Robert Crawley speaking. How can I help you?" The gentle laughs give her away. She always laughed when he picked up the phone at work. She said he sounded so professional. In their younger days she teased him about how different it was from his 'seductive' voice. "Cora?"

"Yes. Sorry. You said to call when I was home."

"Of course. How did it go?"

"Fine. Fine." She sounds so much more cheery than he was expecting and he thinks back to those thoughts he'd been having the last few days. Was she in fact pregnant? "I don't want to talk about it over the phone."

"Of course not." There's a pause in conversation and he can hear Cora doing something in the background-emptying the kitchen cupboard maybe.

"I don't suppose there's a chance you could escape work a little early?"

"Not really. I've got a bit behind since you left."

"Oh?" He hears a sudden worry in her voice and he remembers the times he'd been running late the previous months. One of which had resulted in that ghastly kiss with Jane.

"I'll be home on time but not early. I had a last minute client, who just couldn't wait."

"Good news or bad?" She always knew from the sound of his voice when something at work had exasperated or confused him, which always led to this same question.

"I'm not really sure."

"Love you."

"Yeah. You too. See you in a while." He lets the receiver half fall back into its place.

Lying.

Lying.

Again. They'd done this once. Not admitting what was going on only a few months ago and it had got them nowhere. And now, now he was doing it again.

He finds the picture of the two of them on his desk. There was three pictures in the frame. One was just the two of them, and on either side shots of them with their daughters. But it's the one he hides inside the frame that he hunts for now. The photo booth snaps from their first year together. The first pictures they'd taken of the two of them together. Two strips had been printed, Cora had one, safely tucked in her bedside drawer away from the girls prying eyes. His was here.

The top one has them smiling sweetly together, her arm wrapped around his neck. The middle one captures her red cheeks as he plants a kiss on her jaw. And the bottom one has them both laughing, noses pressed together gazing straight into each other's eyes.

He wasn't going to let her go. Or let her down without a fight. Whoever was coming had him to face and he'd offer him this whole job his whole house if that was what the scoundrel wanted. But he wasn't having Cora, or the girls. Never.

* * *

The potatoes mash perfectly and she piles them onto the ready prepared fish. She'd had to find something to occupy herself before Robert arrived home and making him his favourite dinner seemed the best way.

Since the pie was about to be put in the oven Cora found her fingers tapping on the Pyrex. What she was going to do for the next hour it was cooking to occupy herself she didn't know.

She'd contemplated going to the office she truly wanted to tell Robert so badly her news but the anxiety in his voice when they'd spoken had put her off. And then there was the fact that the office was about work, what she wanted to tell them was about the two of them and their family, that was all to do with home.

She feels the gentle flutter in her stomach when the she hears the distant echo of footsteps in the hallway.

She masks her surprise when it's Edith that mooches slowly into the kitchen, tossing her keys sharply onto the granite surface.

"You're home early."

"Everything was well in order and I need the rest." Cora watches her twindle her fingers in the exact same way she always does. Something was bothering her, and it obviously wasn't work. "No post?"

"None for you. There was a tonne for your father and I but we've sorted all that through. Thankfully none came today." She nods but Cora can see the tears already accumulating in the corners. She slides into the chair beside her, her own joys vanishing at the sight of her daughter's tears dripping onto the table.

"Do you think it made it to him?" So this was about whether Michael knew about the baby yet. Cora supposed that the letter had arrived- it had been written a week ago. But Michael never took time to form a reply usually. Edith usually had a letter in her hand within three days. It would have taken longer to reach him of course but only by three days.

"Have you tried calling since you've been home?"

"Yes. But it's not uncommon for him not to answer." That was certainly true, Edith had taken to writing seeing as she was good at that, and she could enclose columns from the magazine for him to read.

"I shouldn't worry. It may have only just arrived. You did post it from the Caribbean." Edith smiles and daubs the makeup from beneath her eyes.

The problem is Cora is worried, and it was a anxious wait she could do without in her present state of mind.

Robert arrives a little later than she had hoped, having already served Edith and Sybil their share of fish pie, she couldn't shoo them from the room to tell Robert her news. The result is that dinner becomes a series of awkward twitches and silly smiles across the table. Robert tilts his eyebrows at her a few times between the chatter of Sybil's day at school, and she drops her gaze every time. It was silly really, particularly as she was more than secretly pleased that the affection they'd found on holiday seemed to be continuing. Sh rather liked it when Robert made a fuss of her and she was certainly going to need his full support to survive the coming months.

The girls make their excuses after food and meander into their living space. They had two living rooms downstairs, one was the old drawing room, with bright red walls that now housed the TV, radio, lots of rugs, a cabinet of games and puzzles and the majority of the DVD collection. The room that had once been the library was what she and Robert called their sitting room. It wasn't that the girls weren't allowed in it, but it was the same room in which he has his desk and office area so it seemed like theirs. There was a television in there also, and the remainder of the DVD collection, some more mature films that had once been kept from the girls prying eyes. There was also a mad array of family pictures and items from her and Robert's travels before girls, and a drinks cabinet.

They often spent the late evening and the hour or so after dinner together in that sitting room. The girls bustling all over the house with homework or friends. And Robert often had work he completed while she read a book. After that time they all met in the bigger living space and played a game or watched a television show together.

The moment the girls move from the kitchen he's joined her by the sideboard. His hands slipping firmly around her stomach, his nose pressing to the base of her skull between the curls of hair. She opens her mouth and the words she needs to tell him almost come. Almost. But not quite. Partly because she wanted to be curled up with him in their little lounge first and secondly because he speaks.

"I missed you so much today."

"I was at the office most of the day."

"Um, but I couldn't cuddle you. Phyllis is perfect for the job though. I can tell she's super organised and determined to prove her worth." The kettle finally boils and she pours the drinks.

"I probably scared her with my stories about you." He laughs as he takes his mug and heads for the door.

"I don't think so. She said that she thought you ever so lovely and just before I left she wanted to check that your meeting at the doctors was nothing serious." Cora had felt she was right for the job, but she hated putting words into Robert's mouth. More importantly than anything else though, Cora had really taken to her, just as she had taken to Elsie when she had replaced her in the month before Mary had been born all those years ago. It was odd to think that Elsie was now almost a part of the family, married to Carson at the Abbey only in January as she'd retired. Cora trusted Phyllis just as much as Elsie and after what had happened with Jane that was important.

The room still has the original bookshelves which created two very dark sides of the room and without the large window and the tall ceiling it would surely be ghastly. But it always seemed light and spacious, the magnolia paint brightening it easily.

"So, now we are here what did Clarkson say?" She hooks her legs up onto the settee beneath her. He looked so earnest, so ready to share all her burdens with her.

"I've got to go back in a month..." His mouth opens and closes, his hands finding hers and rubbing hard. "For a scan." He gently nods but she drops her severe expression, taking his hands gently to her stomach, it was too bad to scare him for no real reason. She places his hands beneath her blouse. "Because I'm pregnant."

His face is a picture. So wide with shock, wider than the first time she'd told him.

"You can't be, you haven't been pregnant for fourteen years."

"And I'm pregnant now." His looks of confusion are so sure she almost thinks he doesn't believe her.

"But I mean-"

"This room. Two months ago. The night after you found me with Charlie pouring over art. We didn't use any protection Robert, you know that better than I." Her words don't seem to create any response in him. He just stares across the room. She suddenly feels anxious. That strange anxiety that had welled up inside her on her wedding night. She knew everything, she had slept with him a hundred times and yet she'd been nervous. And now, now she couldn't stop thinking he was going to stand and walk away, denounce the baby as another man's. Denounce her a liar. She knew it was the last few weeks, Peter's note, it was all getting to her. "Robert, please-"

"I'm sorry. You forget you've had all afternoon to get used to this...this huge news." His eyes are glittering and as he settles back into the sofa he pulls her in next to him.

"But you're happy?"

"Cora, I'm ecstatic, despite the fact it might not appear so, my brain is doing flips." They sit like that for a few minutes, her leaning against his shoulder. His hand resting slightly awkwardly on her stomach. It was such a blissful moment Cora felt uncomfortable breaking it. But the longer she left it the less likely she was to tell him. And it was all important.

"I'm not very far along, obviously, so you're not to tell anyone until we've go through the next month, if not the next two."

"I'm quite content with that. It gives us a little time to get our heads around the situation, and prepare."

"I hope that includes you pampering me." He chuckles against her head but kisses her hair, a clear sign that he agreed. "Clarkson wants you to come to my my scan in a month. There's some options to discuss, and he'll have more of an idea if there's going to be any complications."

"It's quite early to tell complications surely?"

"It is yes, but mature women have a higher chance of suffering from a number of things. One of which he is concerned about given what happened with Sybil. He didn't explain it all just that the placenta may sit over the cervix and-" His face crumples up and Cora chuckles. "Anyway, the baby wouldn't be able to be born naturally. There was some other things as well but I can't remember them and he said we'd have a better idea the further I get."

"And he wants me there, to squirm and be nauseous because..."

"He wants you one hundred percent aware of the care I might need during the pregnancy and the problems that might occur and how to spot them. He said there might be none at all but there's a higher chance there might be." He only seems to cuddle her closer, brushing her arm where it gets squashed against his side.

"I'll look after you."

"I know you will. I don't doubt that. And I know I'm injecting this happy moment with some horrid realism but I think it needed to be said before we got lost in it all."

"Well, don't worry about the realism. Realism takes forever to catch up with my mind. I still can't believe we're married and that was twenty-five years ago." She lets him kiss her. She lets him kiss her so very hard.

It was odd to realise that this was a passionate kiss. And that the kisses they had shared two months ago in this room had been anything but, they'd been sloppy awkward kisses between sloppy apologies. Love had been their basis and it had grown in intensity as the evening had worn on but this, this was starting at that. They'd realigned themselves since their holiday and she hoped above anything else that it would last. That they could welcome the new addition to the family with their love and passion intact.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: A HUGE thank you for the outpouring of love for this story I have had this week, it's been truly touching from all of you. It's also allowed me to finish chapter 17 and fly ahead planning up to 22! I hope you all continue to enjoy and I love reading all your thoughts so don't hesitate to leave them.

* * *

His fingers are clammy as they rest on the small bed behind Cora's head. He watches Matthew's own mother slather the gel on her stomach. Talk turns easily to the impending wedding and Isobel expresses the joy she'd felt at the news. Unlike he and Cora she seems to have no reservations about their age-she had married older she said, and lost precious time when Reginald had died prematurely.

But Robert had lost concentration after that. His eyes were glued to Cora's abdomen and the gliding of the monitor over the top. He could feel the gel, imagine it's coldness and the strange sticky texture it must create where it meets the skin.

He'd never made it to any of the scans for the girls and he knew that was why Clarkson was demanding it now, he should have been more prepared with Sybil's birth.

"There you go." Isobel's soft voice forces his eyes upwards, to the screen.

He sees white and black. Black and white. Shapes seemingly randomly distributed.

There was a baby there somewhere, his baby. Their baby, but he couldn't see it.

He glances down at Cora to find her tilting her face up to him. Glistening tears at the corners of her eyes.

"Isn't he or she so beautiful. So tiny. The little head." He nods meekly. Staring back at the screen, surely he'd be able to see the head? Which splodge was the head?

"Isobel, could you point to the baby's head on the monitor. Robert can't see it." She reaches to take his hand, squeezing very gently.

He tries to decide if he would have admitted his inability to see the baby if Cora hadn't noticed. He used to struggle a little with the girls when Cora brought pictures home from her scan but they'd always sat together and looked at them, and he remembers the way she'd affectionately traced her fingers over the baby as they talked- a great assistance he now realised.

Isobel's finger pinpoints the head of the baby and he can suddenly see the little form before his eyes, the slimmer body that bundles into legs. It all made so much more sense, and he realised that he'd forgotten basic biology when he'd been searching before. The baby was tiny. Fifteen centimetres Isobel was saying- exactly as it should be.

"I would like you to both return in two months for another scan in which we may be able to determine the gender of the baby and keep a check on you Cora."

"What do you think the chances are of a complication?" Robert's only half with them his eyes are still fixated on the image. The grey and white bundle of matter that was their fourth child.

"Well, we haven't got a multiple birth so that's a good start. And the foetus has developed healthily so far, I was worried you might lose it." Doctor Clarkson did have a way of being so very blunt. "But I'm not ruling out a placenta preavia at this stage. Not that I can tell yet, we will know more after your next couple of scans. But your c-section with Sybil and your age both increase the risk." Cora slowly nods beside him but he still can't follow. Next time was mentioned, he'd think about that next time. It wasn't a concern yet.

They leave the surgery, Cora clutching the ultrasound photo in hand. She tucks it neatly into her bag as they climb into the car- they were headed for lunch with Mary and nobody was to know, or did know, about the baby yet.

There was too much to focus on: wedding plans with Mary seeing as she was demanding her wedding being in August and Edith worrying helplessly over Michael- over a month has passed and she had heard nothing from him regarding the baby, or their future. And he always wrote. Always. He and Cora were refusing to admit to themselves that the worst had probably happened, surely they would have been contacted? But it was debatable, he and Edith weren't married, his Will may not have been set in her favour, they might not have realised he was dead, they may think he was prisoner. There were just so many factors.

All in all, everything was far too hectic for he and Cora to get all excited announcing the arrival of a fourth Crawley. Isobel, thank goodness had kept her mouth shut with regards to telling Matthew, but then thankfully patient confidentiality was her responsibility.

"Cora, just before we set off for Mary's." She turns her gaze to him, her eyes bright with excitement. "This morning has been lovely and whatever happens you mean everything." She takes his hand in hers gently placing it over her stomach.

"I know. And we both love you very much too."

"I only wish I'd been able to see the baby without having to be told." The space beyond the wind screen seemed so much better to process his thoughts to than her face that would only leak an image of pity.

"Oh Robert. Don't kick yourself up about it I couldn't see Mary the first time I went. Speaking of whom we better get a move on, she'll be waiting." Her knuckles dust briefly over his cheek and he can't help but smile against the feeling.

He'd gone from clammy and sweaty to a comfortable, calm contentment but now, as he walked the stairs, Cora just ahead of him, Mary's patronising tones still reverberating in his ear from the words she'd buzzed them in with (they were late it seemed) he felt nothing but a strange buzzing that seemed to course around his body growing momentum- making him feel stupidly young.

"There you both are, finally. We need to discuss everything from bridesmaids dresses to flowers and food today. I have heard back from cousin Patrick and he's happy for the girls to be bridesmaids. Matthew has a friend with a son for page and Sybil has to be the final main bridesmaid. She wants to wear-"

"Shall I put the kettle on?" He hated everything to do with planning other people's occasions. He and Cora had asked for substantial help only from one person- Rosamund. Everyone else had been granted opinions and kept informed but between the three of them everything had been done. Rosamund had helped out on all sides, going dress shopping with Cora and honeymoon packing with him. But oh how he'd hated parts of it, being kept in the dark about Cora's dress and not paying enough attention and mumbling something about flowers only to be told they had already been sorted, weeks ago. Cora had been very good about it but he knew he had annoyed her somewhere deep down.

The coffee was soothing and was good at trying to keep his mind on track. But it didn't entirely help, his mind was still churning ultrasound scans and baby's heads. Then in the more boring moments (when Cora and Mary were discussing dresses) his thoughts turned darker towards those harsher words of Clarkson, the clear worries the doctor seemed to have.

And then there was the gentleman from last month and the threat of Simon, the man who was destined to come and topple their existence. He hadn't heard from the man who had come to warn him again and Robert was above relieved about it, maybe it meant Simon wasn't coming.

And if this man did indeed appear what was he like? Would he be an obvious idiot or was his dark side hidden beneath layers of good breeding. Robert would guess at the latter. He'd appear genial no doubt but secretly smirking the moment your back was turned. Robert wanted nothing more than to meet him and punch him in the nose.

"What do you think Dad lemon or lilac for the bridesmaids?" Bridesmaids, right. Lemon or lilac, for the dresses he supposed.

"Well your sister looks very nice in lemon and that colour is more understated then lilac."

"Yes. But is it too close to the slightly off white I was thinking of?" And he knew then that whatever he said this conversation was destined to go around in circles. They choose one and then next week, or month when they went to the designer and the lemon wasn't the exact shade that they had thought or the lighting was going to make it look like a bright yellow rather than a pastel lemon, it would change. Cora seems to sense his annoyance as Mary flits to the coffee table to find the styles, her fingers paying gently over his knee ad tracing the word 'baby' onto the fabric with her nail. He grins immediately which was good because the pile of magazines with fancy drawings stacked on the top definitely signalled dress design which no doubt extended to Mary's very own bridal gown and not just the bridesmaids.

"Oh actually before we look at these designs I want to know where you two were this morning. I called the office and Phyllis said you weren't coming in at all this morning which I though reasonable seeing as I wanted you here for ten but then I called home and nobody picked up." Her brown eyes stare unfazed back at him as he opens and closes his mouth, turning to Cora (she was far better at lying).

"We went out for some shopping. It's not against the law you know." Now if he had been Mary he would have laughed in Cora's face, accusing her of most certainly lying. But he knew her better than Mary, he could see the signs. The twisting of her wedding ring, the wide mile and above all her heel rubbing hard against the chair leg, which Mary certainly couldn't see.

"So Phyllis was mistaken when she said she thought you were going to the doctors?" Her gaze turns fully to him and he feels the urge to itch the back of his neck. The way she tilts her head proves she knows they're lying.

"It's nothing for you to worry about. We're both perfectly fine."

"As long as you are. If I find you're keeping something from me I'll be most upset." He gulps internally but Mary was back into her wedding plans leaving his thoughts to wander decidedly back to the morning and the small bundle resting in Cora's abdomen. He chances a glance at her stomach, unsurprised to see her hand resting on her lap, thumb gently tracing over the place where he or she lay.

It had been awfully surreal that night she had told him. He'd had his suspicions on the holiday but never had he thought they might come true. And then really they'd lived in a silly bliss for the last month where Robert had felt so young and carefree about it all. But now, now he knew it was definitely happening he felt a panic.

Would he remember what to do? Would they be any good at being parents now they were older? What were other people going to think? How were the family going to react? And that peaceful life all about the two of them that they had just found was about to vanish, to be replaced with sleepless nights and baby sick. He knew he would enjoy it when the time came, that he would probably find his feet quicker than he thought but it did panic him. He was going to be a grandfather because of Edith and yet, he was also about to be a father again.

He watches the swirl of her thumb in a trance. The gentle pressure she applies and he knows that she hasn't forgotten. That she doesn't care what people think, or that she was going to be a mature mother. A mother with a baby at the same time she was a grandmother. Cora was taking it all in her stride and yet he couldn't seem to. Hopefully, soon he would, Clarkson seemed to think his commitment to this baby was crucial, so he would try and all being well would find the feeling he wanted and before it is too late.

* * *

Cora rocks her gently in her arms, although in all honestly it was all rather clumsy. Her fingers feel the ridges of Edith's bra as they rub hard against her back. She hears herself singing a gentle lullaby as she might have done when Edith was tiny. But she isn't sure if she's singing it more to sooth Edith or herself. Is she could close her eyes and picture her second baby girl and didn't have to think about the fact this was her twenty year old daughter sobbing uncontrollably in her arms but she can't take her eyes from the scene before her, it would be a mother's failing if, in this moment, she tried to ignore her daughter's pain and think of something else.

She and Rosamund had both been murmuring that she should stop, for the baby. All she did was shake her head, his letter (her letter really) being smoothed between her fingers. His pile of clothes and his small number of possessions sat by her side, filling the place he might have sat on the settee without actually being there.

Cora knew she should have seen this coming, in many ways she and Robert had. No word from Michael in weeks was a bad sign.

When she had arrived home to a smartly dressed gentleman with numerous badges and a box with Edith's name on she'd known. He was the bringer of bad news.

"I can't have the baby Mum. I won't know...what-"

"Don't try and talk now sweetheart. Rosamund is going to make us some tea and then we will take you upstairs to lie down."

"I can't Mum. I can't, not if he didn't know." The letter Edith had written had been returned. The seal was broken but it was clear no attempt at a reply had been made- Edith would have received it.

The problem was then, that it appeared Michael had either been unaffected by her news, or on a more believable argument was that he had been very much overcome by it resulting in his failure to leave the letter off of his person. He'd made no reply meaning that Edithwas thinking irrational, drawing negative conclusions and overlooking when she really knew about Michael.

And those negative feelings were what she and Rosamund have been trying to draw out for the last few hours, they would become dangerous for the baby otherwise.

Cora did know that Rosamund being with them was a saving grace. With the months to come it was going to be difficult dealing with her own pregnancy and keeping Edith as content as could be possible.

"How am I supposed to raise a baby I don't even know if Michael cared for?"

"Edith dear. It's all you've got left of him. And whatever his thoughts may or may not had been on the matter that is worth everything." Rosamund seemed so unfazed. So fixed in her believes and thoughts. Cora couldn't seem to see passed how Edith might be feeling, how she was going to cope with her own baby on the way. Rosamund had experience in all this, grief and death was something she herself had borne so well, too well, it was only fitting that she would be able to support Edith through this time. "Don't be stupid and reckless with your grief to the extent you lose the baby. It's not worth it, I would know."

Cora stares over her daughter's golden locks to the startling red ones that cover the top of her sister's head as she bows her head. The crack in her voice had been evident. Had she in fact lost a baby soon after Marmaduke had died it certainly wasn't impossible she'd had a great deal of trouble not miscarrying.

Rosamund seems to realise she's being watched and just raises and nods her head. That was all Cora needs to know her guess is right. It seems in Rosamund she had found the carer for Edith that was needed. As much as she would be able to help Edith, Rosamund had a clearer understanding of what Edith was feeling and how to move her from the darkness. And there was plenty due to happen in Cora's life soon that was to make it important that Edith had someone that was looking out for her, and only her, all the time.

The fears about her pregnancy were very real. And after what had happened with Sybil and her age she was determined to follow Clarkson's advice. It was so strange she'd been overjoyed hat she was pregnant, my goodness she still felt like she was on a ridiculous never ending high- she was going to be a mother again after all and that was an all consuming joy for her. And this time, my this time, it was three times as euphoric, she'd been expecting to be told that she was changing, aging but instead to be told she had been granted one last chance at a life, of the fourth child she and Robert had dreamed of but thought was well beyond their reach was quite frankly a miracle. But there was also a strange sense of doom that seemed to hang around her person. As if everything she'd ever cared for was destined to unravel. Certainly sat here with Edith it felt like that this was just the beginning of a very big hallowing picture in which she was without doubt the centre to which everything was revolving. It was Peter's note she is sure, still eating away at the corners of her mind. It seemed fitting that Simon would return to ruin the final gift she had been given just as he'd destroyed the first.

She reaches over Edith pulling the collection of Michael's items nearer. There is a picture frame with an old fashioned silver edging and wallets with their corners worn where they'd been pushed into pockets. His clothes were the bulk of the collection.

The officer had explained that most of his possessions were still in Afghanistan and would only be distributed once his Will was found. That, he had said, was a problem in itself. It appeared as thought he'd recently been updating the Will and the solicitors, with him being away, had been unable to produce a signature for this 'updated' version. They were working with the government at the present moment to try and sort the problem but it was believed it would take some time. Which unfortunately left Edith hanging precariously in the balance.

"I do want the baby. I just...without Michael everything seems so different and daunting. That sounds ridiculous when he was never here anyway but-"

"It's not ridiculous sweetheart. Someone you love very much has just died. Of course you feel dreadful." The tea Rosamund had made them burns the back of her throat as she swallows but it's not the liquid that makes her gasp.

Everything in Edith's life had been badly timed starting with her conception it shouldn't surprise her that Edith's own baby was badly timed.

Edith's own baby had deemed this moment the one in which it would truly makes itself known. The nudge that had caused Cora's gasp happens again and again. Three decisive kicks.

Edith's face scrunches up at the third, clearly the positioning of that one was slightly more uncomfortable.

"See the little one doesn't like it when you cry." Edith half chuckles as she sits up, rubbing her hands firmly over the places her baby had kicked.

"Poor little girl. Destined to never know her father."

"Her?" Rosamund questions it at the same moment she does and becomes quickly mesmerised when Edith blushes.

"Michael always said he wanted a daughter for his first born child." Her voice aches with bitterness and sadness but he was still softly stroking her bump, watching her fingers intently, obviously hoping for a return of the movements.

"Well, if it is a girl we'll have to make sure we dress her in lots of pretty dresses and have her pose for the baby section of your magazine as a tribute to him." Rosamund always had a way of conjuring up the most ridiculous of images in the worst of moments for which Cora was thoroughly thankful, it had helped her along on numerous occasions.

* * *

 _She wasn't anticipating the pressures on her waist. The doorbell had just gone and it was without a doubt Rosamund. But Robert persists, pushing her hard into the doorframe as his sister bobs on the doorstep down the hallway pressing the bell again._

 _"Robert, you sister-"_

 _"Can wait. While you kiss your fiancé good morning and good bye."_

 _It was true that she had raced downstairs to find her breakfast waiting for her and had scoffed it down just in time for Rosamund the result being that she'd not had much of a chance to even look at Robert._

 _Three years ago she would have been shying away from a man leering over her, pressing his digits at her waist and she certainly wouldn't have been laughing and pressing her lips indulgently to his, which is what she does now._

 _"I'm pleased you think you're going to miss me." She knows Roz is waiting on the porch but she can't bring herself to slip from his arms._

 _"We haven't been alone just the two of us all week, except last night and now you're running off."_

 _"Yes I'm running off to look at wedding dresses and hopefully choose one. And as for not spending enough time with me, we're getting married. Together forever." She presses one last kiss to his lips and ducks from his grasp with a chuckle._

 _Rosamund's ginger bob is framed perfectly in the window and she tugs the front door open falling into the waiting arms of her soon to be sister-in-law with a current status as maid of honour._

 _"Thank goodness. I thought you weren't up or something." Cora feels herself blush profusely, it wasn't as if Rosamund was far from the truth. "But from the blush on your face Cora I might be closer than I think!?" She jumps up and down like a school girl by the car door._

 _"I'm not sure what you're excited about." She climbs into the backseat while Rosamund hops around the car._

 _"Well you know..." Cora knew from the suggestive turn of her gaze, wide set of her eyes and her raised eyebrows. And then she suddenly gets it._

 _"You mean sex? You think Robert and I were lazing in bed this morning?" It's her companion's turn to blush as red as her hair this time. "Seriously Roz, we're getting married. We have slept together before. And even if we hadn't I wouldn't be telling you._ "

" _Why not. We're friends aren't we?"_

 _"He's your brother." That seems to reduce Rosamund's enthusiasm for that particular subject only to be replaced with her squeals and exclamations of excitement as they get nearer the dress shop._

 _She manages to escape into her own little world. Thinking about the remaining two and a half months until the big day. The last few months had all gone so very quickly and she thought by now she might have been doubting herself or panicking but in all honesty she wanted to speed up the time. She just wanted to be Robert's. Truly his._

 _She knew it was soppy and romantic, like something out of a movie but it was the way she felt. It was with slight trepidation therefore that she was approaching today. A day in which she was going to select the dress she could very probably be wearing on the day she was, finally, to become his._

 _Most women had some idea of what they wanted. Cora had absolutely zero. She was living on the feeling that one of the dresses would make her feel better and more confident than the others._

 _In all honestly parading herself about in expensive dresses was not her thing, she would rather have a simple elegant look, she knew that, with reduced sparkle. And she knew for the setting of the wedding, and the future she was headed for as Countess of Grantham the day from the very start of her marriage, it ought to be traditional. Which in Cora's mind suggested a moderate train, a lacy veil and a fairly full skirt._

 _"We're here! We're here!" Squealing and clapping erupt around her, Branson diligently pulling up._

 _"Branson. We will call when we are finished. We could be some time I don't want you wasting your day."_

 _"That is very kind Miss Levinson. And while I have the chance, because somehow I haven't managed it before now, I would like to express how very happy I am that you and Mr Crawley are getting married."_

 _"I'm sure you are. All that driving us about at the beginning and being harassed by paparazzi regarding my name and such is not likely to be missed." He laughs as she swings herself from the car._

 _The breeze catches her unaware, not that it should, this was very late November in England. Sh_ e _turns up the collar of her coat and winds her scarf another turn around her neck. Rosamund was already striding through the door, ten steps ahead of her. Cora takes a calming breath, wedding plans have definitely got very serious today. This wasn't flowers and food (they were at any party) this was a white dress._

 _Rosamund is already chatting like a mad woman to the sales assistant and running her fingers over racks and racks of gowns. Cora gulps hard._

 _She so wanted this. The marriage. Robert. But she'd stood in a dress shop like this one before, halfway access the globe being jeered at by sales assistants who probably knew more about her fiancé than she did. That wasn't the case with Robert of course, but the nerves she hadn't felt for a good year were there again, bubbling softly._

 _She stares down at the ground, her eyes spying hat boxes and shoes; the hems of various dresses. What she also sees is the ring. The engagement ring Robert had placed there a few months ago._

 _She thinks back to that night, his proposal, the way they'd made love in her room later on. She sees his face as it had been this morning as he'd waved her off from the window. He'd got over so much in the last two months, what with everything that had happened with his father, she could surely embrace this one small dress shop, for him._

 _"You must be the bride."_

 _"Yes. Yes I am." The woman stands behind her and she gently takes off her coat._

 _"Miss Crawley says you would like turquoise for her dress?" It wasn't a question, but the intonation of the woman's voice rises, she was clearly checking the information. Cora just nods as the woman places her coat on the stand and proceeds to take her gloves and scarf. "And yourself, what style were you thinking of?"_

 _"That's a frightfully good question that I have no answer for I'm afraid. Something traditional, I don't want lots of sparkle." Within a minute the lady has flits around the rails pulling off all she thinks suitable both hands full up she hangs them on a peg in the dressing area._

 _"Try these, Gillian will help you. And remember what I said on the phone the other day we can make up a style that we don't have and put any back that you want to show your mother in the new year." It was the reason they'd picked this particular private seller and designer. They were local to the area both she and Robert lived and Cora truly didn't want to spend very much money._

 _Shoulders were everything in the first few she tries, designs that only reminded one of Princess Diana's ridiculous ensemble. It was not one she was willing to copy nor was it a style that suited her small frame._

 _The next Rosamund laughs so hard at she falls off the stall with hiccups of 'meringue.'_

 _Another is strapless, which again seemed doomed never to be an option for her, as her dear maid of honour points out._

 _"I could make a show of that one Cora but not you. You'll tread on the hem and the whole thing will come down." It was someone like Rosamund that was needed for a dreaded trip like this. A trip where most of the time all that was happening was fabric was being pulled harshly over head and then tugged and pinned in a hundred places._

 _It's with some surprise therefore that she gets ushered through to Rosamund after only five minutes or so in the dressing room, the others she had tried had taken seemingly forever to fix. She doesn't even look at her reflection in the mirror._

 _And then she does._

 _And Rosamund gasps._

 _"Oh it looks beautiful Cora." It has a fairly full skirt, spreading about a third of a metre from her feet. A trim waist and a corseted body. The top was the focal point, a panel sat over her chest, at the top of the corset, that curves up over her right shoulder. Another panel comes from beneath it, forming a v-shape neckline and then curling onto her left shoulder. There's a small train at the back, stretching from the waist and Gillian chooses a small, entirely white veil, from the nearby stand, which she clips into her hair. "Oh Cora." Rosamund blocks her view of the mirror as she stands in front of her, pressing her fingers to her shoulders before walking around the dress and smoothing her fingers over the fabric panels._

 _"How does it feel on Miss Levinson?" It's Gillian asking somewhere to her left but she just keeps staring ahead trying to see Robert's face in her minds eye as he turns to look at her. She tries to think of the music, the flowers she had picked. But all she can really see is her. All the white and the simplicity of it. This was going to be her day and she deserved to wear something that she wasn't turning in the mirror to assess the way it did or didn't cling to her like she did every day before work- much to Robert's amusement._

 _And not a only did it look good but the fabric was soft against her skin. Cuddling it. There were no rough edges, no places she wanted to turn and itch. She didn't feel as though she'd be unable to life her arms to dance, or that she'd get over warm in the dress. It wasn't too heavy, substantial but not heavy, which was a relief to her shoulders._

 _"It feels a little loose on the shoulders." She feels Gillian's fingers slip between her skin and the fabric assessing the excess._

 _"Yes, and at the back, this panel is not touching your back is it?"_

 _"No."_

 _"They're both easy enough to sort I'll have that done in a hour or so. Which means you should be able to try it back on before you leave."_

 _"Do you think she should wear a corset with it, to support her at the front a little more?" It's Rosamund's budding suggestion coming from behind her but Cora only blushes thinking too far deeply about how much bigger her breasts would look in a corset. Gillian and Natasha look about, turning their heads this way and that as Rosamund sidles over to her and whispers in her ear._

 _"You'll boobs will look beautiful when you take it off. And Robert will be all gushy."_

 _"Roz, I'll imagine I'll be changing into another outfit before we travel which won't involve the corset." She often wondered what on earth Rosamund and Maramduke (her current, fairly long-standing boyfriend) got up to. It certainly didn't seem as though it was all quite as innocent as she and Robert had been at that stage or as naive as Robert would hope for his younger sister._

" _Natasha. Before we do my dress Cora needs something for travelling too and I was thinking that maybe..." A dark red washes over Rosamund's cheeks and Cora instinctively turns for the changing rooms, she was going to be very embarrassed otherwise. "I noticed you did some trousseau items and maybe I thought if Cora wanted to she could choose a nightie or something."_

 _Cora's more than pleased she's behind the screen with Gillian who merely smiles at her blush._

 _"Don't be embarrassed. We have worse mothers and friends saying such things. And it's a thumbs up to you and your fiancé that you blush. It means you cherish your relationship with him and because dear Miss Crawley says what she does I can see she admires your relationship with her brother."_

 _"Really?" She turns as Gillian begins placing pins in the back panel._

 _"Yes. When I'm fitting Miss Crawley's dress Natasha can show you the lingerie items and you pick one. But don't tell her-"_

 _"She's his sister and it would be weird. You have no idea how many times I've said that. But, she's such a dear and we get on so very well. I love her, I really do." Cora had truly fallen for Rosamund early on. She was the first true female friend she had made and they did do everything together, shopping, coffee out...all of it._

 _Rosamund's dress is a lot easier to sort and when she disappears to have it fitted and Robert has whizzed in and out to check he agreed with the style- he was allowed to see that one after all- Cora's moves over to the corner of the store, flicking gently through the rails of nightdresses, and some more revealing items. She skips quickly passed the latter, those weren't at all like she and Robert, they were more simple and delicate in their tastes._

 _A soft silver one catches her eye and she pulls it from the rail for a closer inspection. It's short, with two slits to about the waist on either side, and the neckline would drop quick low on her. The fabric is truly adorable though. A satin underlay is covered by a sparkling silver lace with beads and sequins sewn into it._

 _"Would you like that one Miss Levinson?"_

 _"Yes very much. Thank you." She doesn't blush as she hands it to Natasha. Not this time. Robert appearing, if only fleetingly had given her confidence. Natasha and Gillian had busied themselves with Rosamund, after making many loud comments about the groom being in the house. But he'd sat with her as they'd adjusted the last of the turquoise gown for Rosamund and asked if she was happy and joked that he'd been missing her at home but had finally booked the honeymoon. She'd asked him where and he'd rightly told her off, pinching her waist, it was to be a surprise as they had already agreed and if she kept asking he'd be sure to crack. But his final parting promise that he was pleased it was going so well because he was desperate to get it all over and done with, for them to be finally married, had really picked up her worries and stresses about the day._

 _Maybe she and Robert weren't as crazy in their habits and ideas as Rosamund seemed to be. But they were happy. Robert was happy. Her dress was now sorted and everything seemed to finally be taking a turn for the better after last months disasters. And she was ready. She'd known stood in that dress earlier, and Robert had since confirmed it. She was ready to be his wife._

* * *

AN: The wedding dress is inspired by the dress that comes up if you type '1990s wedding dress vogue 2768,' into Google, I just took off the sleeves. But I really did fall in love with it as a lot of the dresses of that time were very Princess Diana which I didn't think suited Cora. Hope you enjoyed.


	13. Chapter 13

AN: Thanks for all the reviews. Enjoy!

* * *

 _Robert was relieved that the day was clear, that they had been able to make it out onto the field. And goodness, wasn't it lovely how the few still sat on the grass, the melting frost that had his morning made the ground slippery was now long gone, leaving behind the soft droplets of water that from every angle appeared perfectly formed, they sat like bats upon the greenery. The ground was hard, there hadn't actually been any rain but due to a slight neglect of the field at this time of year there was a length to the grass that surrounded the AstroTurf cricket square that was a comfort rubbing on the bottoms of his trousers. Even the sun had braved an appearance and was now heading towards its central point in the sky._

 _If he'd spent another day penned up inside with his mother and Cora's eyeing each other he might have been tempted to jump in a car and take Cora to Gretna Green. It was only the reminder of the amount of planning that had gone into theses days that kept him here, he supposed that today's big event was cricket—his favourite—had also kept him steady. A big game of family and friends cricket._

 _And today, today was his last whole day and evening with Cora until the wedding—Rosamund had made it quite clear that tomorrow night they were to be separated._

 _They were captaining opposite teams, he and Cora. Which brought with it the amusement that Cora had spent every available moment of yesterday looking up the rules of the game. She'd watched him play numerous times, every weekend in the summer but it was clear she doesn't do much more than gossip with the other ladies that watched during those games._

 _They'd each been allowed to select their members of them team, which was just a selection of their closest friends and family who were staying at the Abbey in preparation for the wedding._

 _The teams had worked out rather well, with Cora (totally by chance) picking Rosamund to be on her side, not knowing—Robert was fairly sure—that she really quite the player, better than himself._

 _It had all been very friendly for the first half. Cora's team had fielded and done very well. Rosamund had since scored the team a record number of runs and had just been caught out by the expert hands of Cora's brother. Which left just Cora to bat and him to bowl._

 _Robert can't deny the fact that as she steps up to the mark there's a whole selection of emotions that play in his mind. He admires her, the way she holds her stance as if she really does know what she is doing. He worries slightly as he lets the ball fly from his hand that he sent it too fast, despite having made it far softer than he might have used on his sister. But there's also a sense of pride as she hits it. It tumbles shorter than anyone might have liked but his mother takes an obtuse amount of time to throw the ball back to him, gaining Cora two runs. He smiles as he admires the turn of her face as she poises herself ready for her next shot. He watches the gentle turn up her lips give as he keeps watching her._

 _The soft pink of her long sleeved top curves over her body. Her long slender fingers, one endowed with his ring wrap around the handle tightly—too tightly for a proper hold really. Her trousers were sporty, with stripes down the sides of the legs and her trainers were laced expertly on her feet. She'd abandoned her jumper on the benches and he sees a slight shiver of her frame as the wind whips up around them. February really wasn't the best weather for cricket._

 _"Robert, are you going to throw that at me. Or are you going to hand victory to me after I've only batted once?" Her grin is wide, so wide as she eyes him. He can hear rumbles of laughter all around him. "Because you know. This might be the final chance you have to take control of me. We're going to be married in two days and you know who's in charge then."_

 _She was saucy with him, alone, sometimes. Only sometimes though. And he didn't push it. It wasn't something he was overly into. Women had talked openly, very openly to him in the past about what they wanted or needed but he found it vulgar more often than not, particularly in bed. Cora didn't do that, she never had done. She did sometimes ta_ _ke_ the _liberty of refusing to untangle herself from him, accompanied usually by her plum blush but that was all._

 _They teased each other like this though, all the time. Usually with somewhat less of a reaction though. Cheers and wolf whistles erupt from her bench with calls of 'go Cora' from Rosamund, his mother even laughs. But Cora looks only at him, her cheeks blossoming to the shade of her shirt as she realises he's still staring—mouth slightly agape this time._

 _"We're on the fighting talk are we?" She only nods, dropping her eyes quickly. She only had five runs to gain and he had only five more throws. All was to play for._

 _The first three follow the pattern of her last, though with slightly less chance for Cora to score runs. She scores a solid one on each. There had been a couple of moments of opportunity for him to bowl her out but this was a friendly game and the other players had generally waited for the batsman or woman to return to the mark unless they had been batting for some time—Rosamund certainly sprung to mind on that score._

 _Her chest rises and falls quickly, as the fourth ball bounces in front of her, the bat making a far more elegant swing towards the ball than had been the case for her last few. The reverberation of it hitting cleaning the centre of the panel and flying straight back towards him. Calls of 'catch' echo from around him—Harold's most noticeably but his competitive nature for cricket seems to leave him and he moves his body from its path._

 _The silence that had been building in suspense rips into a mixture of cheers from the benches and grumbles from the team around him._

 _He feels rather than sees the ball skim over his head. His hair wafting with it. There's nobody behind him, the teams were too small for fielders covering every position._

 _Once he has collected the ball, it had rolled further than he thought possible, he turns to find the whole of Cora's team in a bundle, which must be around her in a mass of calls and shouts._

 _Anna joins him as they jog into the centre. Followed quickly by his mother and Harold and finally Isidore. A man he'd first had great respect for over a phone and now had even greater respect for._

 _"That was very good of you Robert, letting her win like that."_

 _"I didn't let her win, I merely missed the catch." But he gives Isidore the smile he knew he was waiting for._

 _"My girl certainly has you wrapped around her little finger."_

 _"I like being wrapped there Mr Levinson, so all is well." He knew both Cora's parent_ s _still worried slightly, it was natural after what had happened. But there was little he could do about it except try and prove he was worthy of her._

 _"Here he comes!" It's his sister's high pitched squeal as she moves out the way revealing a rosy cheeked Cora surrounded by the rest of her team—Marmaduke offering her water._

 _"Congratulations. An impressive turn out Miss Levinson." Her eyes roll as she steps towards his outstretched hand._

 _"I could say the same for your team, except for your captain, he can't seem to catch." Her grin is wicked, her eyebrows arched ever so high. There's a few murmurs as she gives up on her charade and falls against his chest hugging him tightly._

 _All he can think about is how perfectly she sits there. Fingers pressing at the cricket whites on his back (she'd been adamant he should wear them despite the fact they both knew nobody else would be). Her hair is buried by his chin and smells of the new scent of shampoo she was trying out._

 _"Is there a prize for the winner?" He kisses the top of her head as she mumbles her words against his neck. The vibrations causing a slight moment of hesitation on his part as visions of her lying with him naked come to mind—she always ended up speaking against his neck in those moments._

 _"Yes. A marriage to me and a kiss to celebrate Valentine's Day." Her head tips back and he takes her face in his hands. The warmth they exude against his cool hands is beautiful. Her lips are cold, and with the slight press he gives them he can't help but press more firmly trying to warm them. But his surroundings catch up with them, more wolf whistles and calls about waiting until the wedding._

 _Her blush is beautiful, it always has been. He gets handed some champagne as they gather in the marquee that had been set up for them. Robert is overcome with an urge to make a small dedication as he sips the bubbling liquid._

 _They all turn to him as he bangs firmly on the nearby table. Cora stiffens at his side, she'd already pleaded with him not to make his wedding speech too long._

 _"While we're all together. Family and friends. I feel I should compliment my fiancée on her newfound joy in cricket, and her marvellous play." Her eyes roll along with various chortles from the gathering. "But I know she will join me in thanking you for coming and attending these events we'd planned for today and tomorrow. It's a thank you from us really, for being so supportive be it at work or home and helping us through a relationship that hasn't always been easy but excessively rewarding. We hope that you will all remain with us and continue to install us with wisdom." There's a smattering of applause as Cora leans against his side mumbling her thanks._

 _"You exaggerate brother dear. You're muddling what we've done with how much Cora makes you delighted with life. In the end you had to work through it together. And in the end we couldn't, any of us make you fall I love, however much Mum may have been praying for you to settle down. Nor could we have dreamed that you'd find someone quite so able to handle you and all the madness that comes with you. To Cora." That one manages to get a bigger cheer. Rosamund tilts her whole glass of champagne down in one, staggering backwards where Marmaduke thankfully catches her. Cora laughs as well. The sound quite the clearest in the whole room._

* * *

The memory was there and it made him pause. A pause because what he iss about to say, Cora pressed to his hip, is not a thanks for them turning up to Matthew and Mary's pre-wedding party. This was not a thank you. This was a bombshell. A bombshell he and Cora had been living with for two months. A bombshell that was in many ways a bigger surprise than Michael's death.

The champagne flute is slippery, threatening to fall through his fingers at any second. He tries holding it harder but that only serves to transfer more of his sweat to the far too delicate stem. The gentle hum of the gathered guests, all decidedly younger than he and Cora, with the exception of their respective mothers, becoming an annoying buzz. It was a bigger party than his and Cora's. But there was more family—the extended family were here (Cousin Patrick, Emma and their children) as well as a select handful, five or six, of Mary and Matthew's friends. But it was now or never. They had to know before the wedding and the wedding was tomorrow. Otherwise they would return from honeymoon and have one hell of a shock.

The ringing resonates from his spoon across the room. They all turn. Expectant faces. Faces waiting for a grand speech. Cora's soft smile, the rubbing on his arm, reassurance.

"I don't want to disrupt anyone's moment. I'm pleased you're all so enjoying the event and I wish Mary and Matthew great happiness. But that is for tomorrow. Today—" he clears his throat roughly and Cora takes his hand. "Today, Cora and I have some news. We should have said before, if only not to steal thunder, which is not the intention. But we can't wait anymore. Mary, Matthew you have a right to know, you need to know. And now is as good a time as any."

"You're rambling." Her gentle voice is beside him. It always was. It gives him that confidence that he doesn't really have.

"Cora is pregnant."

Silence. Silence. And then Rosamund.

"Well, well, well you are naughtier than I thought big brother. Congratulations!"

Rosamund was a party girl there had never been any doubt about that. But despite what he said she was a strong believer in family. Her own inability to have children, and the many miscarriages she'd suffered had made her distraught in the early days. Robert couldn't help feeling he'd let Rosamund down somewhere along the line but she persisted that he hadn't. 'You've given me a house full of nieces to spoil that's better than I could have dreamt after everything that's happened.' It had plagued her though, her lack of children when she was such a family minded person.

Her enthusiasm seems to leak into the crowd as she hands around mountains of champagne and makes a large show of pouring Cora juice.

Sybil and Edith, one moving swifter than the other, come bounding over.

"I'm going to be an Aunt and big sister." She presses her hands to Cora's stomach. "Does the baby move yet, like Edith's?"

"No sweet, another month or so before that." Edith wraps them in as close a hug as she can manage with her eight month bump.

There had still been no news on Michael's will after two months, but she seemed to be coping well. She'd moved into the rooms downstairs, the old servants quarters, and was having them redone. She'd decided this was a better idea than moving into her own flat—she was still extremely nervous about being a mother. On that subject the doctor had warned he and Cora that she was going to be highly likely to suffer post natal depression at some point. She was already worrying about being a mother and she had no immediate support in the form a father. And it looked as though he and Cora may be a little tied up.

"You two should have said. But I'm delighted. I can learn first hand from the expert as I try and bring up this little one." She pats her stomach indulgently. But Robert doesn't see that, his gaze is fixed in the distance, over the soft smile of his own mother whispering her congratulations. It's fixed on Mary. The back of Mary's head to be precise.

"Excuse me." He struggles from the huddle of Cora, Edith, Sybil and Rosamund. Crossing the room in a trance acknowledging with nods the best wishes of those around him. His eyes stay trained on Mary. "You must believe me Mary we never wanted to steal you thunder."

She swivels to him as Matthew leaves them be.

"It's not that. That day at my flat, looking at the dresses. You knew then? You'd just found out?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't say. I asked but you said nothing. You didn't trust me did you?" Trust. Trust. Maybe it was good she was so hung up on that. Then he wouldn't be a fool like he almost had been with Jane.

"Mary-" But she's gone, waltzing off to the other end of the room.

"Ignore her. She and Matthew fell out last night and as you're well aware she's stubborn." It was Branson, his chauffeur. Not the same gentleman that had whisked he and Cora around the city twenty-five years ago, this was his son; Timothy. Robert raises his eyebrow quizzically. "I was driving them home and well, they did more arguing than I've ever heard."

"About-"

"Miss Crawley was accusing Mr Crawley of not thinking of the family. Not sticking together she kept saying. And Mr Crawley kept retorting that it was his so he could do with it as he liked."

"It?"

"I'm not sure what that was."

"Right and did they reach an agreement?"

"Only to not discuss it any more until after the wedding." It was something he'd always valued about the Branson family. They were honest, even when it might jeopardise them, and their Irishman came out in situations where saying it how it is was simply the only method. It was blunt. But Robert liked it.

"Oh well I'm sure they'll sort it. And your father would still tell you I imagine that Cora and I fought more. He used to have me kicking seats and growling in the back."

"I can't imagine that. When you two are at a low ebb silence is the giveaway." Timothy grins but for Robert it just resurrects those early months of the year.

" _Your suits are very posh, do you get them specially made?"_

 _"Yes. Yes." He could feel the heat already growing under his collar. Jane had been working with him a month had he got the distinct impression she was trying to hook up with him. Her manicured nail reaches across as she lays the papers on his keyboard, scratching at the fine silk._

 _"I haven't seen you in a navy one. Do you just wear grey?" Her finger pushes under the lapel towards his neck and he turns away, picking up one of the files._

 _"I should be getting home." He doesn't imagine her sigh, the soft push of her breath against his skin was decidedly real. It tingled and then fell flat. As a pianist's fingers might find a note and then slip, accidentally to the one next to it._

 _"And leave me here all alone?"_

 _"Your paid hours finished half an hour ago Jane. You're not meant to be here." She drops her fingers and he makes the dreadful decision of turning to her, looking at her face. She takes that as an apology and kisses his cheek._

 _He feels the stickiness of her lipstick as it settles on his skin. It also feels annoying warm and comforting—it wasn't as though Cora and he were quite as close as they had been even a few months ago. Christmas had drained them of all energy._

 _"I didn't know it was company rule for a secretary to kiss her boss goodbye. Or is that a new rule?" Jane freezes and then turns quickly, pushing passed Cora to her bags in the outer office._

 _Cora walks to him, arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes are asking him, willing him to say something._

 _"Matthew said he was worried your new secretary had a far too healthy attitude towards work. I think I see why now."_

 _"Cora. I don't...Jane isn't-"_

 _"I know." She reaches up and starts wiping the lipstick from his cheek. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't be more careful."_

Robert realised now that had been where the problem had really started. Cora had brushed it off despite the fact she was actually highly suspicious. She had been well aware they hadn't been at their best, Jane had been a reminder of that. He'd kept staying late. Working. Jane had stayed as well which Robert had stupidly denied to begin with, which naturally meant when Cora had discovered the truth all hell had broken loose.

That was when the silence had started. The shifty looks and the biting remarks. Those were the two weeks that Sybil said next to nothing at dinner. Nobody said anything. Robert at that stage had done nothing wrong. Jane may have tired to overstep the boundaries but he'd not joined her.

That was until the night of the kiss. The evening he'd been overcome with the need to find out what it would feel like to go home and feel bad, guilty. The day he'd been too stupid to resist. Too annoyed with Cora's failed trust to refuse.

The kiss hadn't let him go and his mind still drifted into thoughts of it, just as it had that day in St Barths. Following the kiss came the cherry on the top for the most vile day in his marriage. Home to find Cora painting with an old college friend who appeared Mary's age. He wasn't but he felt it compared to what Robert realised were his one insecurities about himself. The deeper worries that Cora didn't want him any more. And the pure hatred towards himself in that moment, because of the kiss, that his feeble mind was far better passing onto someone else. Blaming someone else. Cora. The man she was with.

"Sweetheart. Mary and Matthew want to start the buffet." The gentle push of her hand into his awakens him from his thoughts. Her voice drifts calmly by his ear.

"Of course. And I'm sure you're hungry." He could see he was right by the way her eyes light up. The smells of the sandwiches and salads reaching them. He kisses her forehead.

"Robert. Do one thing for me. Try and forget Jane and all that happened. We've got this little miracle from all that. He or she is proof, if nothing else is, that you and I do well together." With that she half drags him to the buffet and guests laugh around them as she piles her plate higher than anyone had ever seen—Cora was usually a conservative eater when she was dining out.

"I am trying to forget things. I just-"

"Forget being guilty Robert." She reaches her mouth forward to the sandwich he holds in mid air and bites, a wicked smile on her face as she licks the remainder of the tuna mayonnaise filling from her lips. "And enjoy this party."

* * *

She'd told herself she wouldn't cry. She'd lectured herself on the one important thing about today. No crying. But she was crying.

She told herself it was the baby hormones. But it wasn't. The tears were from hormones of an altogether different nature. They were the droplets of Mary as a baby being finally set free to roam the world. So that Mary could enter the world and become once and for all her own person.

She looked so stunning, sat on the dressing table stool. The luscious green park reaching far out the window. Her hair was elaborately arranged—all thanks to the stylist Mary had hired for the job—the tiara that was a gift from her grandmother sitting firmly, regally, in its place. The timber brown of Mary's hair was shocking in comparison to the soft skin she had inherited from her mother. She and Robert had so admired the colour over the years as it had burnt to darker and darker shades.

But she was now, her eldest daughter, flying the best for good. These were the last moments in which she sat before her own mother as her daughter, and not Matthew's wife—a far more highly regarded title, to her anyway. But never to Cora. Cora would always see the soft bundle with the fingers and toes that constantly moved. The eyelashes that prized apart so very slowly, even when she was shrieking at the top of her tiny lungs. The gurgles of a baby's laugh that had made the months of Edith's pregnancy so much easier to cope with.

"I still can't believe we are here." She stands behind her, looking in the mirror at the two of them. Mother and daughter. Eldest daughter. First daughter. First baby.

She sees that moment on the cruise ship, the way she had brushed Mary's hair through. She smooths her fingers over the tresses as she stares, searching the brown eyes that were her grandfather's.

"Me neither." Cora knew that much to be true. The last four months had been a fast turn around with wedding plans flying out of Mary's ears. Cora also knew that even in the last couple of days tensions had mounted between Matthew and Mary. Rosamund had seemed to be the one that had snooped and found the gossip, not that Cora was ever going to ask how, that woman simply had 'her ways', not that Cora needed to know what they were. "Not that I'm talking about the wedding or Matthew and I settling out differences."

It seemed Matthew had come into some money that he felt insecure about. Mary was trying to persuade him to invest it into the establishment while he wanted to keep it separate from everything for a while but likely invest it in their future—a bigger house, or children when the time came—in due course. Mary appeared to think this was going against the Crawley mantra of sticking together.

"What are you thinking about Mary?" Not that she couldn't guess, Robert had been beyond upset that she'd run off after their announcement.

"The baby. My baby brother or sister, does it not feel weird? Being pregnant now, so many years after Sybil?" It was odd for Cora, more odd than she was likely to admit to Mary. Everything following Sybil's pregnancy was new and foreign, namely Dr Clarkson being so firm about his diagnosis. Severe damage had been done, that had required more than a little stitching. The result had been that Cora had been advised not to use any physical contraception herself, which wouldn't be a problem for most women except, she couldn't take the pill due to a harsh, dangerous side effect of chest pain. Clarkson had advised that they didn't try for children after Sybil for at least three years anyway, so condoms had been the only contraception they'd used since, aside from a brief two years when they'd been trying for another baby and a few other occasions when they'd just forgotten to use it. Thinking back on it, it was weird that they'd just stopped trying after that time had passed, they had never discussed stopping trying to conceive again, it had had just happened—age and their three daughters tiring them out enough to not want another screaming baby. To find herself pregnant now was ultimately strange but not unwelcome, she and Robert had always wanted four and deep down she had never forgotten that. She'd never really resigned herself to the fact Sybil was it.

"Not really, I love you girls, I love being a mother and your father and I always talked of four children. Now, back to you, there is nothing you want to know?"

"Mum really. This is not 1920."

"No, it's not. But girls like you, your own blood grew up in this house. This very Abbey. And I'm sure one of them once sat on the morning of her wedding in this forest green room and her mother asked her that question."

"I'm sure they did."

"And I'm sure she was likely terrified. Very unlike yourself. And I'm also sure her mother was terrified and overjoyed and teary too, which is more like what I'm feeling." She physically wipes away the droplet that sits on her cheek, trying to refocus her eyes as the reflection of her daughter begins to fade and jumble itself, just like their relationship, falling into insignificance.

Mary turns on the stool, pressing her palm over Cora's stomach.

"Don't cry Mum. You have this little one, he or she will keep you company."

"I know. I know...I just. I suppose this is sooner than I thought it would be. You leaving me, properly. University was one thing. But this is, this is emotional I suppose, you're shifting your priorities."

"It doesn't mean I love you any less." He kisses her head, in front of the tiara, and breaths in that heavenly scent that is all Mary's one last time.

"I wish you such good luck my darling girl." She turns for the door, hearing the murmurs of Edith and Sybil as they wait to be let into the room to view the dress and hug their sister own last time. For Cora it was time to get to the church. To find her position amongst the gathered. The significant background of the picture but no longer the foreground.

"Mum?"

"Yes?"

"What would she have said. The mother in 1920. How would she have calmed her daughter down?" Cora grabs the door for support, her body half tilted outside. Her fingers feel the ridges of the old door, the cool stiffness of the knob. Her eyes find her shoes. The soft point of the turquoise fabric at the toes. They weren't her favourite design but Robert had persisted on something sensible given her condition and he had after all allowed her to choose the fitted dress with the rather extravagant slit in the skirt.

Her cheeks go pink, she doesn't need her reflection to tell her that. She knows that she wants to say and she can feel Mary's hard gaze as she chews her lips again, her nail scratching over the wooden door.

"She would say, if she were me, that when two people love each other, you have to understand that everything...is always, however old...it's the most terrific fun!" Mary blushes and Cora dips her head, hiding the beetroot shade that Robert delighted in making appear on her face.

"That really puts the conception of my very little brother or sister very much in perspective. Thank you Mum." Her eyes are rolling but she's smiling which makes those memories flood back through their gates, threatening in the tears. "You must take care of yourself while I'm gone. Any problems with yourself or Edith and you must ring. Matthew and I will come." Cora only gently nods, she hated being a burden on everyone's minds. But that she knew was how it was going to be until the youngest Crawley was safely delivered into the world, she and him or her both safe.

"I better go. The girls are waiting and we don't have much time." Sybil and Edith stand a short way away down the landing. Sybil was already dressed in the lilac dress that had eventually been chosen for her, Edith was nursing her bump.

Touching her own abdomen she was beginning to feel the soft bump between her hips. It was a good sign, she was early in her fifth month and the baby was clearly about the right size. In a week or so the bump would be visible to others, if it wasn't already—now that they were all looking.

"Is the baby alright? Nothing has happened?" Robert had clearly been watching her from the hall as she'd descended the stairs.

"Fine. You can feel the bump a little now that was all." He places his hands over hers, kissing her forehead.

"I know, I've been able to see it when you're naked." She presses her fingers to his white shirt, fiddling the with the flower in his button hole as he chuckles by her cheek, it seemed blushing was going to be her trademark face in Mary's wedding photographs.

"Do you think people had noticed, before we told them?"

"The bump?" She nods, staring into his eyes as he rubs her hips.

"I doubt it. You've been dressing so people wouldn't notice even if you didn't realise it. Why does it matter anyway?"

"It doesn't. I just worry people already knew when we told them. That they thought we'd been deliberately keeping it from them."

"And if they thought that then they aren't our friends because they don't know us very well. Everyone here knows there's been a lot going on and that we wanted to make sure the pregnancy was running smoothly before a big announcement." He always had a way of placating her worries whether it was the words he said or the gentle movement of his hands on her arms, the earnest look in his eyes. "Now you better get to the church, here comes Edith." He kisses him gently on the cheek and she and Edith head for the waiting car.

Both of them hold their hands protectively over their varying size bumps. And Cora finds the gentle rhythm of her fingers there a comfort to her, maybe they were comforting the baby, and that helped her to forget the ordeal of losing her eldest daughter. She had a little one growing inside of her who was going to bring all those motherly joys again and she was soon to be a grandmother to a little one who was likely to spend a great deal of time with her and their Aunt or Uncle yet born. It was a comfort to know she was going to be surrounded by new life very soon when she felt her own life, that she had spent the past twenty-five years building was slipping away. She had felt that acutely for a while but it was passing more day by day with the growth of her little one.


	14. Chapter 14

AN: The middle section of this chapter went a lot further than I had ever planned for this story but having moved further from it as I've progressed writing I think it was the correct move—an important issue that I think was good to raise. I hope you think the characters react realistically to it. I would love to hear your thoughts as ever. I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

 _The soft clip of her heels on the front steps and the silence that envelopes her is something she treasures._

 _The church had been quiet during the parts of the vows but the thumping of her heart had been so loud in her chest that she could have sworn Robert could hear it._

 _But stepping back onto the granite steps outside Downton, the wooden doors swung open to welcome them, all is quiet besides his gentle breathing beside her._

 _They wouldn't have long, they knew that. Their family and friends would be here any minute._

 _The horses that had pulled them through the village back to the towering turrets of the Abbey neighed behind them as the groom indulged them with treats._

 _It was an odd sensation when he takes her hand and leads her through to the hall. She'd never been in the Abbey when it was quite so silent. The swish of her train and tapping of their shoes the only sounds._

 _They hadn't spoken much in the carriage. They'd kissed softly, once, just before the carriage pulled away from the church and Robert's hand had perched on her leg the whole time. They'd focused their attentions on waving at the expanse of people cheering them on. Robert hadn't been able to believe the number of people in the village that were bothered these days and had whispered so in her ear. They'd exclaimed over the villagers who had made special banners or found pictures of them and blown them up full size and the young children calling out their names. But they hadn't talked of what they'd just done. That was in the touches, the gentle pattern he etched on the knee of her dress._

 _That was until now. Paused in the centre of the hall he wraps his arm around her back and kisses her temple._

 _"You're happy?"_

 _"Yes. Very happy." She presses her free hand—the other still clutches her bouquet—to his chest where she can feel the rhythm of his hammering heart. "And you?"_

 _"Beyond delighted Mrs Crawley." She chuckles at the way he waggles his eyebrows over her name._

 _"Technically I'm not Mrs Crawley quite yet."_

 _"No but I shall surely delight still more when you are." She blushes a little and he smiles._

 _"Kiss me." She needn't have asked, he was already there. It was different to how he'd kissed her outside the church. That had been soft, and a simple brush, blink and somebody would have missed it. This was different. His tongue tickles gently between her lips and his lips press, her back bending as he pushes his hands into her waist, deepening the kiss. He pauses for breath, which pleases her, as she finds herself breathing heavily in her warm dress. He dips his lips to her mouth again for one last kiss as the sound of voices comes from the gravel drive._

 _It seems to take forever to cram every guest into the hall for canapés and drinks but she stands diligently by Robert listening to the the comments on the pleasant service, and exclamations over her dress._

 _Robert hadn't actually commented on the style of her dress and after all the fuss it had caused her with her mother (when she had seen the dress soon after her arrival in England all hell had broken loose over its simplicity) Cora had rather been hoping that Robert would indulge her with pretty comments._

 _They pause for breath as the last of the guests files past and the caterers change the canapés for the main buffet food (they had decided against a sit down meal purely based on the number of people involved) which was an extensive array._

 _"You feeling alright?" She was feeling over hot most certainly, which he appears to have noticed._

 _"Fine. Fine." He stops her from turning for the food tables, his arm wrapping firmly around her waist. His lips are by her ear. Teasing the soft new hair that had been pushed behind it, having failed to reach up into the coif._

 _"You're not. What haven't I done?" She smirks softly as she turns her face towards his, his nose brushing over her ear._

 _He knew her so well. He'd known that she was anxious. And seeing that the whole day has gone as planned he must have missed something himself, some expectation she had. That was what was important, him and her. The two of them knowing and understanding each other and Robert was certainly proving he knew her well and could perfectly comprehend all her facial expressions._

 _"There was something. But it doesn't matter. You knowing is what matters." They've weaved their way gently to the food where Rosamund was twirling about exclaiming over cake cutting._

 _The cake was three tiered and the knife perched by the side certainly reflects the thickness of the bottom tier. It had been decorated with elaborate piping on the edges and the bottom. But it was the delicate roses that had been modelled in pinks and blue—the colours she and Robert had chosen for the wedding—that were stunning. There was a piped ring in the centre of each tier studded with the floral design. On the top stood the customary wedding figures which Robert had persisted she had made especially so the figures looked like them, even the dress was surprisingly accurate. He wanted to keep them in the house almost like a wedding photograph._

 _Her fingers curl over the handle, the wood smooth and cold in her warm palm. The heat of his hand still presses at her back, soothing the satin over her skin beneath._

 _She'd been worried about the sewn in corset to her dress but it was surprisingly comfortable and added structure to the bodice of the dress that made it feel less as though all the weight was in the elaborate shoulders._

 _Heat races into her cheeks from her knuckles as his hand covers her own and he whispers for her to make a wish as they lower the knife to the board._

 _"You look gorgeous. That's what you've been waiting for isn't it?"_

 _It is as they are cutting the first slice and Robert is waving a piece in front of her mouth that he says it. The fifty or so close family and friends gathered around them raising glasses to their happiness but all Cora can do is smile wide. Smile so very widely at her brand new husband. Her darling Robert._

 _"I love you." She whispers it quickly, the cake hovering by her lips but he hears her. She knows he's heard her because as she licks the last cream from her lips and nods her delight over the simple Victoria sponge hidden beneath the layers of fancy icing he takes her hand, rubbing his fingers over the two rings that rested there. One of which was engraved with their names._

 _"I got it right then. I had forgotten to call you my beautiful bride. I must say I didn't think you were a vain one, who cared about what people think you look like." She swats his chest, rolling her eyes._

 _"It's my wedding day. I'm the bride! I'm meant to look nice. And besides, your sister told me you had taken ages getting ready." His ears turn a little red at the tips, a clear indication he had taken time over his appearance. Even she could see he had brushed his hair more than usual which if she was honest was not her favourite look on him, she preferred it ruffled._

 _Her attention is claimed, along with the rest of the room, as Cora watches her father commandeer the microphone the band had just set up in preparation for the dancing that was to start in half an hour._

 _"I don't want to take too long over speeches. But there is from Martha and I particular thanks in order to be given to Robert and his family for accepting Cora into their lives here. Most particularly to Robert who has proved his worth and love for our daughter countless times. Without him it is safe to say that the Cora you see before you today would not be the same. I doubt even if she would have entered into a relationship with another man. Cora will not, I think, I hope, mind me saying she entered England in a dark place three years ago and now we are stood here and she is quite the happiness she has ever been. To Robert and his wife, my dearest Cora." She'd felt the tears pricking even before he was halfway through. Her father was welling up just standing there and he never cried. Robert is by her side, watching her face, squeezing at her hip as he senses her quivering. She doesn't cry, she holds them back but only because Robert was cheekily whispering in her ear about how long it would take her to readjust her make-up if she cried. He only teased her about such things because she wore very little on her face and when she did she fussed endlessly about whether it looked subtle enough._

 _John Bates' speech is not quite as short and as best man he manages to eject some humour into the mix—mainly about Robert's inability to work without Cora arranging his diary and bringing him coffee. He lays them out to be a team in every walk of life, and he finds examples from all areas of Robert's life he had known before to present the change in his friend._

 _"He forgot one thing. He forgot to mention that I didn't know what being in love was about before you." He wafts her onto the dance floor, parting the congregation. Bates steps from the microphone asking for a glass to the 'bride and groom and their wedding song.'_

 _Robert had let her choose this but that was only because he had point blank refused her any choice or details about the honeymoon. Rosamund had been assigned to pack for her which meant she had only been allowed to veto particular items that Rosamund wasn't sure about. The result was she was as apprehensive and excited as a bride may have been marrying into the Crawley family in the eighteen hundreds. Although the terror of what to expect for that bride's wedding night was very different to the buzz she felt at the thought of being alone with Robert in not too many hours._

 _"I like the song. A very clever choice." He holds her more perfectly than he had the first time they had danced to this waltz at the company ball, but she supposes a lot has changed since that first dance._

 _"I don't know if it was clever. I just thought that we started there, dancing to this song and it was a good start. I want this to be a good start too."_

 _He certainly hadn't inched closer to her when they'd danced the first time, or gently whispered in her ear. Neither had she leant her head on his shoulder as the waltz came to an end, his arms enveloping her in a warm embrace. But they do this time._

 _The band they had hired were very versatile but mainly stuck to the musical classics that she and Robert had spent hours enjoying. So she's surprised when she hears the tape player beginning another song that was seemingly on the same disc. She knew the song well enough. Everyone did by the sigh that was erupting around the room. Whitney Houston. The Bodyguard. I will always love you._

" _This one was a request from the groom. After which the band will be live." She'd thought it was Rosamund being all sentimental so it's with some confusion that she peers up at his beaming face. And peer it was when he is clutching her tightly to his chest and they are moving in very slow circles in the centre of the floor._

 _"I couldn't resist. I'm sorry if you're angry."_

 _"Robert, of course I'm not angry. Just surprised. This isn't exactly your style."_

 _"No. But I will always love you Cora. That's what today is about." She lets him pause them in their swirls, the climax of the chorus echoing around them. Her feet might stop turning but her head doesn't. Not when he kisses her, the notes of Whitney being paired with the clapping of those around them, his fingers brushing her cheek adding more warmth than she could control. Then there was his heart, hammering beneath their hands which he was holding there. But above all that it was how he was kissing her. There was no pause for breath, no hesitation. He had matched his kiss to the song's rhythm, to the words that were so final and emotional. Everlasting words, destined to be sung forever. That was the kiss at the beginning of their new life. It was everlasting. Unstoppable._

* * *

She feels the heady rush she'd felt that day. The disorientation that trickles between her ears. But it's not a kiss that has thrown her off balance. Nor is it the exuberant jazz band who play in the corner. It's the figure. Directly in her vision through the open drawing room door he is peering in, trying to get her attention but without alerting others. She could tell even from this distance who it was. She'd hoped the threat had stopped. She hadn't seen Peter since the holiday, all of four months ago. She'd assumed, hoped, everything had been stopped. But if he was here, gate crashing Mary's wedding, risking his position to try and warn her (because she did feel she could trust him) then things had changed. Something had happened.

She nods softly through the window hoping he would notice. When his head disappears and a minute later she sees his figure retreating to the lawn she sighs softly. She'd have to take a moment to go and speak to him.

The heat prickling on her back seems to be decent motivation to take a breath of air anyway. And she is well aware that if she loiters someone, probably Robert, is likely to notice her discomfort. It was better to get the trauma of talking about Simon over with.

Her stomach growls in annoyance as she presses past her mother to reach Robert. She places her fingers there, smoothing them over the little bump.

"I'm just going outside to cool down."

"You're feeling okay though?"

"Yes. Yes. Just a little too warm." She presses his arm wafting passed to the door. The great oak doors were very intimidating but the more time you spent at the Abbey the less significant they seemed. They seemed to exude a warmth, an idea of homeliness despite their vast size. They were a symbol of this life they sometimes had at Downton and they had been a comforting vision as she stepped from the car over the years to be faced with their knockers. But not this time, this time she was approaching from the inside and it felt as if they were sealing her here, on the safe side, keeping her life in England protected from the invasion that seemed to be threatening from America.

The latch falls easily beneath her fingers. The grain scrapes at her fingers in places. She slips through the gap she manages to open up before pulling the door closed behind her.

She spots him immediately, pacing with his hands in his pockets by the old bench that sat beneath the tree.

She moves towards him quickly, not that it's her eagerness to hear his news that propels her, more the anxiety not to be missed from the party, and the slightly deeper felling that it was better to know the worst. She doesn't run though. That would alert attention if somebody did spot her, besides she couldn't risk it, not in her heels with a baby growing inside her.

"He's definitely coming for me then." She says it as a statement rather than a question. In all honestly she'd known as soon as Peter had left her the letter that he was coming. Simon wasn't one to be deterred.

"I wouldn't have come if I didn't think what I've heard is important." He invites her to sit next to him on the bench but she declines. She felt more comfortable standing. "He needs your signature it seems. Some contract regarding a story someone is trying to sell to the papers about the two of you. Goodness only knows why he needs your word to stop it, but he does."

"What story?"

"I wouldn't say it's a story. He treated you abominably and the papers have found that out. What they want to publish is the truth Cora. But he wants the truth buried." She nods her head almost imperceptibly. Her eyes close and very different tears from that morning beckon. Tears of anger and annoyance, terror, flood her eyes. She takes a deep breath and turns away from the view back to Peter.

"Why? It was over thirty years ago. Why is what he did then suddenly a problem?"

"This marriage. The family are rich and powerful. If they find out, they'd bring him down, he'd be ruined." She can't help but laugh out loud at that. A stilted laugh that forces some tears over the edge.

"Wait...wait...he's coming for my signature that's going to save him but give some poor woman and her family a life of misery. He really thinks I'm going to sign it!"

"He seems to think so. He didn't say how. He just seemed very confident." Peter adds little emotion to his telling and for that Cora is grateful, he tells her only what he knows.

"The other thing I don't get is why me? He's had three or four wives, surely they have stories? In fact, surely that is a clear indication of his character?" And that's when Peter's gaze drops. His breath comes out in one long puff.

"You were the worst. He was more careful after you fled. That is he was more careful with how he hid what was really going on. And he married less intelligent women than yourself. Not that it's just that. The story the papers can make from you is worse. Raping a wife is hard to prove in court not only is there the legal binding of the marriage but there is a lack of evidence. But not for you."

Rape.

Rape, the word was so cold. But not cold enough. It bit but it didn't bite hard enough. It didn't truly express the pain and isolation that many women felt.

"A video was found...I don't—"

Video. CCTV probably. Which only left one memory it could be. The memory hidden most careful behind mental barriers. Every day with Robert and her girls was stacked up in front of that one. Everything she had.

"Stop. Please stop." Her head spins so fast she loses everything. The greens of the trees melt into the grass. The vastness of the Abbey blends into the skies. The summer blue merging to a watercolour grey. Her fingers hover over her stomach as she tries to see the situation clearly. As she tries to clear the memory that was flitting back together. The memory that wasn't really a memory but more of a hole in her memories. A hangover.

She tries to see the Abbey. The baby scan. Robert. But she can't.

She begins seeing it. What she supposed was on the video. Because it could only have been that night. The pub. The night before she woke up having forgotten what had happened.

The unfamiliar hands on her waist aren't just in the past though. They are now. They grip firmly. But she resists tuning into him as she collapse onto the bench. Robert will come. She knew that. It was no use pretending any more.

It was no use pretending to Robert that all was fine. He needed to know this.

It was also no use pretending to herself anymore. It was time Simon stopped ruining lives. High time.

"The video..."

"I don't think now-"

"I need to know Peter. It's the pub?"

"Yes."

"It was in the drink wasn't it? And then he-he...is that on the vid-"

"No. But the spiking of the drink and your subsequent removal from the room, roughly, by him is enough. As are some words he speaks into his phone during the video."

That evening flickered again. Images of Mary, Edith and Sybil fall away forming the darkened pub. The drink, white wine spritzer. He'd kissed her when she'd returned to the bar, on the cheek. Then he'd pushed the drink towards her. That had been the beginning of the end.

She might have woken the next morning in her own bed and not remembered how she had got there. She had noted the tightness of her body. The complaints of her abdomen. But he'd said she'd fallen. She'd trusted him. That had been the end of her. The Cora she had been.

Looking back she could so clearly see how the he'd controlled her from that point. She hadn't understood why. But subconsciously maybe she had. It would happen again, him forcing himself on her, if she didn't agree to his plans. Her body knew that.

Her mind was finally catching up. Admitting that yes, she was a victim. A victim of the one of the worst crimes on earth.

She doesn't know when it is that she starts crying. But Peter's arm wraps around her, soothing. She speaks through her tears as he keeps rubbing.

"He must realise I won't sign?"

"As I said. I don't know how's he's planning to get passed that obvious barrier." Cora knew only two methods he might be planning on using. Blackmail or he was working on the fact she had hated his affairs but hadn't made a connection with that night and rape.

He lowers his arm from the place it had been resting on her shoulders seemingly sensing the awkwardness of the situation now she was recovering herself.

She stands, daubing her eyes. He'd done all he could, the ball was in her court to play now.

"How long?"

"Two months at the very most."

"I appreciate what you've done. Telling me, warning me." She truly did. Peter had been a member of Simon's gang for sure. But he'd been so much younger than him—still at school—that Cora had always thought of him as the young boy being demanded to do things. He hadn't to Cora's knowledge ever been convicted of anything but then no doubt he'd been too young and others had taken the blame. It had been equally apparent to her that he wasn't really with the gang out of choice. His brother used to drag him along to solidify his position. The result was he always hung very much on the outside of things.

"No thanks are required. He treated you wrongly and now he's planning it again. A man shouldn't be able to ruin life's like that, not with what he's done."

"Many men do walk free. It would be easier to understand if you were me. I've spent my life forgetting him, Peter. Anything to forget. I've even lied to myself about things I knew deep down had happened. I lied to myself because I couldn't be sure, something that is true for the night we've just spoken off. But also for other times when I gave in to his demands or he made me feel inadequate I believed that. I thought I was the one that was wrong."

* * *

She emerges from the bathroom, hair damp. Towel wrapped precariously around her chest. It slips from around her and for the first time in years he finds himself dropping his gaze. Not because she isn't as beautiful as she once was but because of what he has heard. What he shouldn't have heard.

He'd known. That's what he keeps telling himself. The boyfriend might never have been named and many of his actions only spoken of in general terms. But Cora had told him enough before their marriage to know one of the worst crimes in the world had been committed against his darling Cora.

And that was in many ways what made it worse. He'd known. Donated money to charities that helped rape victims and domestic abuse. And yet she hadn't.

Cora had realised only today, on their daughter's wedding day that she was in fact a rape victim. He had watched from his secluded spot as she had fallen onto the bench behind Peter. He'd seen the expressions on her face as the memories and this video the man was trying to keep hushed up had fused together. Robert was only pleased in many ways that it seemed she would never remember it. It was clouded beneath the drug she'd taken. Never, thankfully to resurface.

He looks back up, to wonder at her. To wonder at the woman who was five months pregnant with his fourth child. To wonder at the grin on her face as she spies him watching. Her mind was in turmoil and yet she put this whole day first. Him. Mary. She'd strode back into the reception as if nothing had happened.

He'd been angry when he's followed her out. Finding that outrageous man at his estate but that had all been forgotten. Listening to them talk. Cora had known as much as he did. Peter had told them both. He didn't know why he hadn't appeared from his hideout and comforted her himself but the honest truth was regaining control of his own emotions had seemed more important. Yes Peter was forewarning her but he had opened up the biggest, single terror that had hidden itself away in the back of Cora's mind. He'd allowed her to find the truth she had kept so well buried.

"You look preoccupied my darling."

"I...Peter he, um, he came to my office a few months ago." She stands stock still. The towel falls from her immediately. Her hair falls from the braid she had just started. His mouth opens and closes with her reaction as he tries to scramble the words back inside. But he can't. It was time they got this out in the open. They needed to decide a plan anyway if the man was indeed coming. "I saw him again today and—and I followed you and listened." She falls onto the dressing table chair. Her eyes lock with his in the mirror but they fall away easily enough. Her head bowed, shoulders shaking.

"You know the worst thing? If I could remember he'd be locked behind bars. But I can't! I can't!" Her frustration is taken out more on the towel than in her words. She pounds it again the ground before stamping on it. He circles her waist and let's her kick in his arms before she can manage to throw the stall she is reaching for.

"You need to calm done Cora. The baby. Think about the baby. Clarkson said to avoid stress and extreme emotion." She falls limp in his arms and even her crying stops. Taking her to the bed he wraps her quickly in the old shirt of his she was using as pyjamas and tucks her under the covers. When she protests he puts a finger to her lips. "I swore to stand by your side. Thick and thin remember?" She nods over his finger and he climbs into bed beside her.

She slips perfectly into his arms. They snake over her waist and gently massage her back. He pushes his fingers into the tight muscles either side of her spine, mainly on the lower back where she often felt pain in her pregnancies before. Her sighs are lengthy as he continues to rub.

"I just wish I could save other women Robert, that's all honestly. I've made a life. A life I love. With you. And in truth I can't even remember that night. I don't remember what he did. I never will." He continues massaging. Focusing his attention (or trying to focus it) on the smooth texture of her skin. The bones he could feel just beneath, but she keeps talking and his mind follows her. "Rape is such a horrid word. It rips lives apart. I could stop that and yet I can't. I feel more helpless than I ever felt as his girlfriend. Which is where the problem is. I can't let him walk free. I can't sign this paper Robert."

She turns to face him and he knows this is the real moment of sticking together. Thick and thin. This was certainly going to be thin. Thin ice that is going to take a great deal of negotiating.

"No. You can't." And if he had anything to do with it? Which he very well might, the man would have his face punched in.

"But if I don't he becomes a threat to our family. The girls. And whatever he's going to blackmail us with will become front page news." He stares into her eyes. The pale blue that changed daily between darker colours that he was sure only he saw in moments of passion to the middle hues that decorated her palette in the winter months.

"I think all we can do is wait. Peter might find out what that blackmail plan is, if you truly think it's that?"

"Yes. My status is too juicy for him not to try and ruin it. And a physical threat is too obvious and risky considering the evidence he's trying to protect."

"In which case all we can do is wait. But I will stand with you Cora. I promise. We will sort something. But right now we have more pressing things to consider." Her hands drift to her stomach, rubbing gently over the delicate baby that was hidden beneath.

At this point with all Cora's other pregnancies they'd had names drawn up and basically decided upon. This time they had nothing. Robert thad been contemplating bringing up the topic for weeks but had been waiting for Cora to do so. Seeing that she hadn't, and Robert could feel the emotional day catching up on him, what with Mary married as well as the other less pleasant news, it was time to have the discussion. "Baby names."

Her smile becomes a grin in seconds and she snuggles against him. He waits for her to say something but all he can hear is her contented sighs and the movement of the air as they waft over his skin.

"Boys or girls first?"

"Which do you think it is?" He rubs at her stomach as she turns her face upwards from where she'd buried it. She smiles again and he can see those happy memories surfacing behind her eyes.

It was a game they had first played with Mary and because Cora had successfully guessed the gender Robert had used it on the other two occasions over the years. Her track record for correct first guess was two out of three and for second guess she'd predicted even Sybil's awkward pregnancy to be a 'rebellious little girl.'

"Really Robert? Isn't that a little childish?"

"It's tradition." She rolls further out of his embrace, her eyes focusing on the canopy of the elaborate mahogany bed in the Mercia bedroom—the one that had become theirs since he'd admitted his love in its ensuite. Her reluctance surprises him for a moment and then he thinks about where they stand. Three daughters. If Cora thought this little one another girl she might be unwilling to tell him, thinking he wanted a son. Or in fact, she thought her bump was a boy and didn't like the idea of getting their hopes up and being wrong. He was well aware it would get their hopes up too, particularly Cora's. They'd always wanted four children and she'd always wanted two girls and two boys. Her only preference had been a little girl first.

"I don't know that it's a good idea this time. Becoming attached might be dangerous if something goes wrong."

"Clarkson is a wise doctor, Cora. He's dealt with you three times before. And you've got a scan in a month where he said he was going to check for that placenta thingy." She laughs at that and then shifts to face him. Her gaze is purposeful, her fingers reaching forward to clasp his.

"Placenta preavia." He nods reluctantly, he hated all the medical terms but he had a feeling he was going to hear more of them. He doubted Clarkson was being over cautious. He told it how it was. "Now, names." He wasn't about to push her into guessing a gender if she didn't want to. But he was very curious. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to have a baby growing inside him, he wasn't supposed to, but he did enjoy Cora's stories of her experience and the accuracy of her guesses in the past had enlightened him. He was curious to know how different her pregnancy this time felt and whether it would turn out to be down to more than just her age.

"Only if you promise to tell me what your guess is."

"I'll think about it." He refuses to push her any more, the day had been so difficult and he didn't want to push her into anything that she was uncomfortable with.

"What about some girls names?"

"I thought maybe Katherine. It's quite traditional which fits with the other girls names." He could see in her gaze, and the twiddles of her fingers over the bed sheets that there was something else.

"What is the other one?" She gulps softly and by the look on her face he certainly isn't expecting the name that falls from her lips.

"Isabella."

"And why were you keeping that hidden? It's a beautiful name." She smiles very faintly at that and he pulls her to rest again him. He buries his nose in her freshly washed hair and immediately sneezes which makes her laugh.

"You must have some ideas."

"I'd thought of Amelia but I prefer both the names you've said. Isabella Katherine Crawley would work quite well."

"You're not meant to agree with everything I say. We've got time anyway, to think about it." She shuffles down in the bed and he watches her eyes drifting shut slowly for a few seconds before she prizes them open again.

"We should discuss boys names before you completely zone out."

"I'm carrying your baby Robert. You shouldn't be hindering me getting adequate rest." But her soft chuckle vibrates against his neck and she shifts her fingers to the base of his neck, rubbing over his collar bones. "I think he should be an Edward Robert Crawley. But if you've thought of something else you must tell me. I don't want you letting me choose because you pity me." He kisses her forehead as her hands keep twitching on his skin with what he assumes is nerves.

"Why Robert?" He knew why really, she was naming the baby after him. But he wasn't keen on that idea. It had been something he'd embraced at the last minute with Sybil. He was utterly convinced that he was going home with three daughters and not his wife. The doctors were fairly adamant that was going to be the case as well. He'd written the name on the birth certificate before he knew what was happening.

"Because it's a name I rather like. And it seems fitting. If this one is to be a boy he will be your only son and it seems right somehow to honour you." He strokes her hair gently.

"And if I don't approve?"

"Then I will change my mind. This isn't just my baby and as yet I don't think you've so much as mentioned a name. Which I would like you to."

"I always liked William. But with the Prince I'm not sure we want it as a first name. Seems a bit obvious."

"There's a Prince Edward too."

"Yes. But he is less important. William is heir to the throne and very much in the lime light at the moment. Besides I think Edward William is better than William Edward."

"I hope you're not just saying that to please me." He chuckles against her forehead. Tickling her sides gently until she squirms slightly in his arms.

"If I wanted to please you I'd do this." He presses his thumbs to his cheeks and kisses her nose, then her mouth. He lets his tongue dance over the seam of her lips and he's more than pleased when they fall open at his insistence.

They don't talk again after that. She drifts off in his arms, her breathing getting deeper. He just breathes in her soft scent as his own eyes fall closed. It had been a long, busy day. But all in all it had a happy ending. They still had their little one, Mary was happily married and they had a future to look forward to. There were going to be some obstacles clearly. But he could cope with those. They would sort them.

"Boy. I think it's a boy." She mumbles so softly against his skin he nearly thinks she isn't talking. He's about to confirm with her the assumption when her body goes limp beside him and he hears the characteristic stutter of her breathing as she falls into a deep sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: I have read all the reviews this week, but I'm not sure I replied to them all, it's been a bad week. I hope you like this one, it seems to be quite long.

* * *

She had jumped in the car the second she'd heard the news. Rosamund had called saying Edith had been notified that Michael's will had finally been sorted. She'd abandoned Mary, Matthew and their honeymoon photographs in favour of her rather too posh BMW. Robert had insisted, but in all honestly she took the tube as often as possible. It was the culture of London she loved after all and that was nothing without the underground. She knew Mary was annoyed with her hurried departure in favour of Edith but she would make up the time at another moment she was sure.

Just over two weeks had passed since the wedding and no sign of Simon yet seemed a blessing in many ways but a hindrance in others. She would much rather face him and get it all over and done with. Besides if he waited too much longer she'd be so large with her baby Edward (the scan had confirmed her guess) that she would hardly be able to put up a solid fight.

And then there was her condition. Placenta preavia had been confirmed. Clarkson was to monitor the position of the placenta again in a couple of weeks. But he'd been fairly certain it was going to totally cover her uterus meaning she was definitely scheduled for a c-section. It also meant that sex was totally off the cards which hadn't pleased her greatly. But sometimes those were the cards you were dealt and you had to play them. What was more worrying was that sex or not there was still a very high chance she'd have some vaginal bleeding and if that became heavy the baby would have to be delivered by an emergency c-section. Doctor Clarkson said the chance of that happening in the seventh or eighth month was very high based on what he knew of the size of Edward and various other factors. He is hoping it will wait until later and therefore reduce the need for too much time spent in hospital for Cora and the baby and obviously the nearer full term she got the greater the chance of Edward's survival.

She hears a horn sound somewhere to her right and she realises her attention has drifted at the traffic lights. She waves her hand behind her in apology and the car whizzes beneath her as she stomps on the accelerator.

Thoughts of Edward clear as she pulls into the drive around the back of the house and whizzes herself down he flight of stairs that used to lead to the servants quarters. The rooms downstairs were now mainly spare bedrooms for entertaining. But since Edith's pregnancy she had taken half of them and the original kitchen had been modernised and fitted out so that she could all but live down there. It was temporary until she possibly moved into her own flat or house, but it seemed the easiest way with what they had. Edith hadn't really wanted to be too reliant on her and Robert but she had thought the expense of a property too great when her baby would be spending so much time at this house or the office, as she worked so much.

Edith is sat at the small kitchen table with a few files scattered all over it. Her legs are propped up on another chair, discarded mugs of tea and coffee all over the place.

"Has the baby boy started moving yet?" That was Rosamund as she scrambles around the table to pull out a chair.

"No. Not quite. I feel flutterings but I'm not convinced quite yet. If nothing happens in the next two weeks I'll go to the doctor." It was true she had been anticipating Edward's first movements for a while. But she was only mid way through her sixth month. There was time.

"God. I so wish this one didn't kick. But then I wish it would just pop right out." Edith had gone very quickly from wearing her pregnancy very well, to struggling. She was two weeks from her due date and lacking sleep.

"What happened with the will then?" Edith takes a very deep breath and passes the piece of paper towards her. It was a crumbled piece. An old letter. One of Edith's own that he'd had in his procession at the front. On it Cora can make out his swirled font. It noted that the magazine was already in Miss Edith Crawley's name and that he would like to leave his house and possessions to her and his unborn child. It was clearly signed in the bottom centre and two other, slightly weather worn signatures were signed and dated either side.

"The problem was validating the witnesses. One of the two men who has signed died with Michael."

"I see. But it's all sorted itself?"

"Yes. Michael had called the lawyers and explained this was what he wanted done, they had a recording of the phone call and that was used as evidence. Almost like a third witness. And obviously they checked for the accuracy of the signature anyway." Edith rubs firmly at her belly. Her eyebrows are knitted together and it was clear she was deep in thought. Her face scrunches up a little at one point before her fingers run over at a spot quite high on her swollen stomach.

"What are you going to do about what he's left you?"

"I'll move into the house when the baby gets bigger. Maybe in a couple of years. In the meantime I'll rent it out. It's a gorgeous location and someone will want it."

"Clearly you've thought about this." Edith had certainly matured over her pregnancy, not that her relationship with Michael hadn't enlightened her to the world anyway. But Cora felt more than with Mary that she was losing her middle daughter. Edith might not be married but she was about to be a mother a feat she seemed perfectly ready for despite her own apprehensions. And just like today, a few hours after she was home from her trip, Mary was calling on her parents to come and look at the photographs from the honeymoon whereas Edith had been busy quietly thinking over the next two years of her life. Yes, she was still living at home but even that now was her own separate set of rooms and she was only really staying for convenient child care. Cora was hardly one that could resist children.

"I have had time to think about what might happen and it's not like Michael and I didn't have plans. I just wish this baby would make a move."

"It's your first baby Edith. You can't expect anything until probably after the due date. They're often late first time or it will do something silly like you did and flip right around." She kisses her top of her golden curls and deciding to head upstairs to meet Sybil and start dinner asks them both to join her. Edith refuses lifting herself up and moving to her new bedroom complaining about needing a rest. Rosamund agrees though, and Cora even manages to persuade her to stay for dinner.

"You need to take it easier Cora. Robert told me about the condition and I've done some reading—no strenuous activities. All this running about and stressing counts as far as I'm concerned. Let me do some of it." They're halfway up the stairs when Rosamund's words waft from behind her. She slows her steps. She hadn't been expecting that. Her sister-in-law had always been so carefree, but there was a heart there somewhere. A very soft heart. A heart that only one person had ever truly known. The one person no longer with them. Marmaduke.

"I'm fine Rosamund."

"You're not. You're lacking sleep I can see it clearly on your face and you have not even had a decent lunch today." Cora's mouth opens and closes as they step into the kitchen and she flips the oven on. "Mary text me."

Cora swivels from the sink, fingers gripping to the side board. She knew she wasn't eating as she should and she was stressed, mainly over Simon, she still couldn't quite admit to herself what had happened. She wanted to forget him. Forget any of it ever happened, just as she'd done since meeting Robert, but that wasn't working out. It wasn't that simple any more. It wasn't just an unfortunate relationship as she'd even thought less than a month ago. Her drugged mind had caused other women more trouble. Her inability to remember was costing other women their existence, mentally at least. And that hurt the most, her inability to help despite having been a victim.

"Did Robert ask you to-"

"No." She's surprised at the strangled tone of Rosamund's voice. Not only had she been convinced that Robert had asked her to keep tabs but she wasn't expecting the crack of the younger woman's voice. "I've made my own conscious decision to keep an eye on you."

Cora steps for the fridge only to have the younger woman block her way, suddenly regaining her sunny confidence.

"I'm cooking. You're sitting." Cora watches with curiosity as another woman floats about her kitchen. First of all, a fancy salad topped with chicken and every fruit Cora had in the fridge is passed her way as Rosamund finishes preparing the Shepherd's pie and puts it in the oven. "Eat that salad. It will make up for all the nutrients you've missed today."

"Why?"

"You've missed a meal-"

"No, why are you so bothered with me and my health, you never took an interest with the girls and it's not like I ate perfectly every day with them, nor was Sybil's pregnancy easy at all." A familiar rhythm casts itself into the room. The tapping of fingers over the glass tray in front of the kettle. It was something that Cora knew she did and Rosamund did it now. She says nothing. The kettle hisses and gurgles and that's all the sound that fills the room, alongside the clicking of Rosamund's fingers. Her eyes stayed fixed on the mugs of tea. She fills them right to the top and Cora almost warns her about overspilling them but she stops soon enough, both times.

"It's a boy." The tapping stops. The tea bags fall into the bin and her sister-in-law's gaze meets hers. "All mine were boys. Four boys Cora." The cherry tomato stays whole in her mouth. Her teeth refuse to crunch down. She just stares at the woman sat before her, her fingers digging into the China mug, trying to push her fingers through the strong material—knuckles going white in a stark contrast to the vibrant reds of her hair.

The sharp juice of the tomato stings the back of her mouth, not that she can remember telling herself to crumble and swallow it.

There were no tears dripping from Rosamund's eyes but Cora could see the hurt. The holes in her heart that had been left behind.

"Did you ever talk about them? To anyone?"

"The middle two. Duke and I talked about them. He never knew about the first until later and the fourth-" Cora lets her break off, taking her hand from the other side of the table, trying to ease the shaking. "The fourth, he was the biggest. A little younger than the boy you have inside you now. I held-" And then there were the tears. The soft dusting of water that falls onto their joined hands.

"Did you have a name?"

"Stephen. Marmaduke and I had talked about it before and with him gone-" She gulps harshly again. "The point is Cora. I was stressed and grieving and I lost my last piece of the man I loved, that I do still love really, and I can never forgive myself for that. I don't want you to have that pain."

"Did you ever truly talk about this with anyone?"

"No. I felt weak and stupid. A woman unable to carry a baby to term while you were struggling to keep up with your rabble."

"I would have listened." Cora felt silly. Of course she and Robert had known there had been some difficulty for Rosamund conceiving but Cora had no idea she'd had four known miscarriages—there were probably more. She'd only known about the last one. The one after Marmaduke's death and even that had only been Cora's own speculation.

"In all honesty. I couldn't talk about it. My beautiful nieces kept me going. I owe my life to them Cora and you've no idea how true that statement is. So now, I'm going to keep an eye on you." And with that she turns back to the oven, turning the hob on to do some vegetables. Cora is left with a great deal to think about and the recently familiar fluttering in her stomach. Edward.

* * *

"Good afternoon. Grantham Establishment, Robert Crawley speaking. How can I help you?" It was typical that the phone would go ten minutes before he was due to leave. And it was equally typical that a month after Mary's wedding the voice he hears on the other end of the line is equally expected, but very unwanted.

"It's Peter Wallace."

"There must be some news if you're calling."

"Unfortunately yes. Most of it is bad but I've done a little thinking and we might be able to get something out of it."

"Go on."

"He is planning blackmail. Which is half the reason I've called you not your wife. The evidence he has is more CCTV footage and it is of you at the office with a woman Simon has named as Jane." The receiver almost clatters to the table. His eyes fall shut and Peter's silence is filled with his own sigh. A long drawn out sigh.

"Have you seen the footage?"

"No. And if I had I wouldn't pass comment. I have assumed it would jeopardise your marriage or at the very least upset your wife."

"She knows most of it. But I imagine the section of footage Simon has is the part I haven't told her of—which I will tell you now was only a kiss—a full two minutes of my life I regret more than any other."

"The point is. He's got it. Which means two things. Three really. He will crop the video to whatever he thinks necessary to enrage your wife. She will sign his contract to protect her marriage and your reputation. Meanwhile he gets away with rape and stealing of the CCTV footage. Added to all of that, you've got a mole in your establishment Mr Crawley." His hand combs through his hair. This really wasn't looking pretty and he knew full well who his mole was: Jane. He almost punches the desk in anger but he remembers Phyllis is just passed the door and she'd panic.

"You said there was some good news?"

"Yes. If your wife agrees to meet him in a set place, we can follow with the police. I've heard the American police are looking for him on another charge of rape which is half the reason he's chosen now to travel, he's trekking the world as we speak. He'd failed to mention that before funnily enough. And the stolen CCTV is something that needs to be brought to the attention of British police anyway. He's got the tape on him and if we could 'happen' upon it if you know what I mean."

"So we're leading the police to him. But how are we going to explain our involvement?"

"That won't be a problem as long as you report your CCTV has been copied and I will tell them he has been trying to get in contact with Cora through me—we will say we attend some committee together or something." He gulps, he had no idea how Jane had managed to copy it but clearly she had. Which meant only one thing, he was going to have to find her and sort the situation.

"Thank you for the heads up. I'll sort it. I'm guessing you won't leave a number but make contact in some way in the next few days and I'll tell you how it's gone." The phone goes dead before he can latch it back onto the hook. His head pounds as he picks up the phone and dials the line to Bates' desk. He asks for Jane to be sent upstairs before he can think twice about what Bates might think of that. She slips in through the doorway a second later but he says nothing. He doesn't know what to say. Just looking at her hurt if he was brutally honest with himself. A minute lapses in silence before she shuffles uncomfortably for the chair opposite him.

"Some CCTV footage has been copied from the Establishment's system. I'm under the impression you might know something about it." The conversation doesn't take long from there for which he is forever grateful. She admits to her involvement with the ghastly man whom Robert was still refusing to name but she does vouch that her feelings for him had been honest and just, which he doesn't dispute, and that Mr Bricker had only approached her after her change from his secretary to Bates'. She refuses to admit how she knows Bricker but he doesn't push for answers, he knew enough about the man to guess at something unpleasant.

"You'll obviously have to resign your post with Bates, which I am sorry about. You're a good worker Jane. But what you've done is a criminal offence. I will try and keep your name protected which I think will be mainly successful as the police will I feel heap the blame on Mr Bricker. That's not saying you won't have to pay a fine, you probably will and if you do I'll pay half—it took two of us to create that footage after all." She meekly nods before heading for the door. No doubt she'd agreed to Bricker's schemes for goodness knows what reason, maybe it had been partly to get back at him for refusing her attentions or the stupid man had offered her a load of money which Robert was well aware Jane needed to support her family—somewhat like Edith she was a war widow. He should feel regret. But he doesn't. A weight lifts. A weight he hadn't realised was sitting over him as she leaves the room.

The car ride home is slow. It always is, rush hour in London was truly a thing. His thoughts swirl as he drives. They churn from the situation that was developing with Bricker to the advancement of Cora's pregnancy. Rosamund had been hanging around the house a lot the last two weeks, keeping an eye on both Cora and Edith. The latter was thoroughly fed up, her due date had been three days ago and as far as she was concerned he or she was ready to come out. She'd settled into sleeping better though, which was certainly a benefit for the impending birth. As for Cora there had been a few worrying developments, firstly little Edward hadn't yet moved, or not decisively enough for Cora to be sure. She'd been back to see Isobel who had checked for the heartbeat and all was still healthy and strong but Robert knew by the way Cora massaged her hands constantly over the baby that she was panicking. Worse than that though was the slight bleeding she'd had yesterday, Clarkson had come to the house and announced the amount not heavy enough for her to be hospitalised but he'd warned Cora it wouldn't have to be much more. Since that Rosamund had taken a bed upstairs and was keeping Cora strictly on house rest, the doctor had reckoned she still needed to cut back on carrying heavy bags of shopping home and such like and since she now felt uncomfortable driving this meant she needed Rosamund as chauffeur. The other thing the doctor had wanted to lessen was stress (he thought she was worrying over Edith) which was naturally leaving Robert in a situation. He had news that she really ought to know but the more he thought of her condition the more he leant towards telling her only once he'd contacted the police, and maybe if that went smoothly he wouln't have to say anything.

The front door is unlocked when he arrives home and he steps through the door to hear cheery laughs coming from the living room. The voices were clearly Rosamund and Cora so he heads that way, abandoning his briefcase and jacket in the hall. He tries to quieten the tap of his shoes as he crosses he hall to deposit them at the base of the grand staircase.

Inside the expansive living space Rosamund holds a book, which she quickly hides the cover of when he walks in, and sits cross legged on the settee. Cora is on the same sofa her head resting on the opposite arm, her feet in Rosamund's lap. His sister stands and still red from laughing excuses herself to 'put the dinner on.'

"I could hear the two of you laughing almost from outside. What was so funny?"

"Rosamund was reading her book to me. And she decided to commentate the whole thing. Frequently bringing up stories she could remember of the two of us."

"And these included?" Robert admires her gentle blush as he sits down in Rosamund's vacated space.

"They were just funny stories and then something happened in the book and Rosamund was teasing me about us...being together." He massages her feet as she blushes profusely, and he had to be honest he was surprised she'd spoken of such things with his sister. But maybe it was a good thing, Robert did feel that she didn't see her girlfriends as often as she should.

"And this came on because..."

"The book may have been a little mature, Rosamund thought it might help seeing as the doctor has banned me from you. Not that she told me that before she started reading the book." She sits up, and turns, leaning against him, which takes some struggle.

"Surely you'd be more embarrassed at that though? Than finding it amusing?" She fidgets a little more. Anyone else would think she was just trying to get comfortable. But Robert could see her tongue darting over her lips and that meant only one thing, she was keeping something cheeky from him. He adjusts his own position on the settee, wrapping his hands over their baby. "What is it?"

"I may have told Rosamund the story about you wearing my underwear." He rolls his eyes. That story dated back to long before Mary and still it made that delightful chuckle gurgle from Cora's mouth in a hiccup as she tries to dissolve her laughter.

"I hope you told her it was accidental. That I went to the wrong drawer."

"Of course. But she didn't buy it. She thought I'd persuaded you." She settles properly against him, her face rubbing on his shoulder.

"Well my dear I am very pleased you find it so amusing after all these years. Personally I'd hoped and prayed the novelty has worn off, but clearly not."

"The novelty is the key Robert. My mind will conjure up the image of you in my lacy cream knickers every time I think over happy memories of the two of us and it will never cease to make me laugh." He could think of memories he'd prefer her to remember but he didn't doubt those were there too. And today, a day when she deserved all the happiness she could find he wasn't bothered. He couldn't bear to think about what it was like to discover something new about your past, something you'd not been able to put together before. His easy decision to agree to Peter's plan earlier had been something he hadn't thought through at the time. But sitting with Cora he knew that there was no way he would be able to stand in front of the man, that man that had abused her, raped her, without trying to hit him, or worse kill him—both of which would leave them in a worse position. And then there was Cora coming face to face with him in her condition, he really didn't think that was safe but he saw no way around that but if the police were there all would not be lost.

He chews his lip, about to tell her about his phone call with Peter when she softly begins to laugh again. He doesn't question it, she was probably remembering again.

The next thing that happens is her soft gasp, her face wide with surprise turning to him.

"He kicked! Here." She takes his hands tying her fingers between his. When he feels the gentle pressure of a baby hand or foot against his palm three times in quick succession his mind wanders right back to the first few times he'd done this with Mary, it certainly didn't change. The thrill was exactly the same. He kisses her brow only for her fingers to leave his cradling their baby boy so she can tug his chin gently to hers, her lips beckoning for his soft touch. He indulges her, even going so far as to kiss her again when she tries to pull away.

"Cheeky." He laughs, keeping his forehead pressed to hers.

"I've been deprived of you recently. Which is for a good cause of course but I do like kissing you and doing other things." She smiles softly.

"Me too and I'm missing it too. More than you I imagine seeing as I get no pleasure and this great big lump of your son to lug around." He was being careful not to think too much about the fact the baby was a boy, there was a chance the diagnosis had been incorrect and the very idea of it being wrong did fill him with a slither of regret that he felt shouldn't be there.

"Well, I'll spoil you when you've had this little one and recovered and all that of course."

"Does spoiling me involve strawberries?" He knew where her mind was, exactly where his was. Their wedding night.

* * *

 _He's surprised the red velvet hasn't worn a hole in it. It was an old carpet as it was, a very old carpet and the piece outside the Mercia bedroom was certainly not as pristine as it had been even ten years ago. It doesn't stop him from pacing though. He'd been waiting at least twenty minutes he is sure of it. Rosamund and his mother had floated inside and still he was stuck outside.  
_

 _He didn't really know why he was so bothered either. He'd see her soon enough, goodness he'd have her to himself for the next two weeks. And after that they would be living together. Married._

 _The door opens a fraction again only for Rosamund to appear between the gap and shuffle out._

 _"I can't believe you haven't told her where you're going."_

 _"I want to surprise her."_

 _"Well good luck. Not that you need it. She's a wonderful sister already." She kisses him on the cheek and skips for the stairs._

 _He was very pleased everybody liked Cora so, he was. But he couldn't help feeling in the back of his mind that they didn't matter. That all he wanted was to spend time with Cora, to know that she was perfectly content._

 _Her dress had hugged her slender figure so beautifully earlier and he felt that he had gazed too much and maybe been rather forceful in kissing her so often. But he couldn't quite resist. The photographs had been taken with the grand backdrop of the abbey and she'd laughed at his silly jokes as people had toppled about on the grass to join the large group photo. She'd even agreed to the kiss that the photographer had pressed for and Robert had an odd feeling that would be the photograph hung over his—their—fireplace._

 _The door opens again and this time he's rewarded with her small, wide grin. She's dressed in blue. A simple dress with a thin black belt and a warm black coat. His mother shuffles past them and announces she's going to organise the guests which leaves them in peace to wander to the top of the stairs._

 _"Are you going to tell me where we are going?"_

 _"No. You'll like it I hope. All I will say is that we are going to be staying in two different places." She raises her eyebrows slipping her fingers into his. They descend the stairs sooner than they should, but he doesn't pull her back, he presses his hand to her back and pulls her against him._

 _Cora manages to throw her bouquet squarely into the hands of Rosamund before they get showered with kisses from a thousand directions._

 _And then all he feels is the sharp, bitter February air as it blows at Cora's dress and she pushes it firmly against her knees as he hands her into the car. He quickly checks their luggage is all successfully onboard before sliding into the drivers seat. He was only driving because he wanted to be all alone, just the two of them. Rosamund has attached some silly streamers to the windscreen and they shimmer as they drive through the lanes of the estate._

 _The cottage he'd decided on was small and secluded and would serve perfectly for their first week as a married couple. The intention was that this week was all about the two of them, laughing and joking around as they always did and that next week, for which he'd booked a fancy cruise was about site seeing, discovering Cora's love of history together._

 _He pulls up on the little gravel drive to her murmur of confusion. He only smiles taking the key from the glove pocket of the car and stepping out. She follows of her own accord coming to stand gently behind him, her warm breath surprising his cold neck as he unlocks the door._

 _"You go in, make yourself comfy. I'm going to grab the bags."_

 _Stepping inside a few moments later, hands full with the two moderately sized cases he heads straight for the stairs and the large bedroom._

 _The staircase itself couldn't be more different than Downton. With its tight spiral and varnished wooden panels it was hardly the soft, fairly plush red carpet. The steps are steep as well, each step at least twice the height of any at the abbey. The bedroom is not much smaller than one at the house though, the previously owner having decided to knock two rooms into one. He admires the soft draping he'd chosen for the bed as he places the cases in the corner and closes the curtains to keep the chill at bay. Even in this room the flooring is all wooden and the fancy mahogany wardrobes certainly fitted the room. The doors into all the rooms was what really added character for Robert though. They were all wooden, made of four or five vertical panels with a black metal rod running horizontally a foot from the top and another at the bottom. They were truly original with black latch locks still intact. And the lighting was the other thing, all the bulbs used had low wattage which produced what Robert felt was a soft romantic feel, or at least he hoped it was. He's pleased to see the fire was burning in the fancy fireplace on the far side of the room._

 _He skips easily back down the stairs leaving his coat on the banister with Cora's._

 _He finds her sat on the settee nearest the fire when he enters the living space downstairs._

 _"This is rather lovely I must say. Another secret of yours?" He chuckles as he sits down beside her. This room was a rich red on one wall, the others a magnolia and the floor had a Turkish rug covering the cool wooden panels._

 _"Only recently acquired. The estate has just purchased it back from the owner."_

 _"The estate being you?"_

 _"You could put it like that." His nose brushes over hers as she turns in her seat, pulling her legs on to the settee to cross them and leaning into him. Her fingers wrestle a little with the collar of his shirt, running beneath them. She sits forward a little, curling her hands further around his neck, tangling her nails in the hair at the base of his head._

 _This was meant to wait. This was for later, when he carried her up the stairs and they'd been talking and laughing for at least an hour. But he finds himself unable to stop and rationalise the situation. She shuffles gently into his lap her lips pushing hard into his. He parts them a little more, allowing him more access to the sweet taste of her mouth. She murmurs when she tries to push her tongue to him, only for him to lash back and retain the soft control they both enjoyed. It caused a mini fight. She trying to usurp his control and him attempting to keep control of it._

 _She fidgets again before dropping her lips from his to hoist up his sweater. She drops it behind him and he feels the rush of cold air as she immediately starts lifting his shirt up. Her fingers spread more of a chill for a few seconds before all the scratches of her nails begin weaving their magical warmth._

 _The building heat in his own limbs he finds mirrored as he slides his hand beneath her dress only for her to quiver and try to press herself against his hand. He ignores that and continues his quest to the elastic of her tights. He has to take her waist, when his hands have wrestled the tights as far as her knees, and push her to lie against the arm of the sofa. She lies looking up at him, eyelashes blinking with rosy spots on her cheeks. She wiggles her toes as he takes the tights off, tossing them to the small pile that was accumulating on the floor._

 _Her fingers stroke over his chest as he leans back down over her. But then she resists his kiss and starts to laugh, very softly against his ear which causes him to laugh as well, his hand circling softly on her belly. He thinks that is what is making her chuckle so he presses harder. She twists and turns beneath him._

 _"Robert." He slows his fingers. "I started laughing because this is so not how I imagined tonight would go."_

 _"Me neither. I've had a beautiful room made up for us upstairs and there should be some special treats in the fridge and now, suddenly, I'm so taken with how lovely my wife is." She strokes her fingers over the tufts of hair above his ears before gently taking her bottom lip between her teeth._

 _"How about, I go upstairs and change, which was part of my surprise and you grab the food and meet me up there?" He shifts off her as she sits up beside him, her lips dragging his into one last caress for the moment at least._

 _He's collected everything he needs, namely strawberries and the tub of cream and makes himself comfortable on the bed as Cora sings to herself in the bathroom. He did rather enjoy listening to her sing and the song she was trying (and trying really was the word) to sing tonight was the Whitney Houston song they'd danced to earlier in the day, the song he had chosen to express his love. He would always love her and he'd felt, with Cora it was important to make that a clear, unambiguous part of their wedding day._

 _She emerges from the bathroom then, her hair unpinned from the tights curls it had held on her head all day, with only a small section flowing down her back to all the rich tresses falling to her shoulders. On her shoulders sit two tiny tube straps that drop into a curved, extremely low neckline that is ruffled—as if all the extra fabric had been left uncut from the top. The nightdress is a silvery lace that drops only to her mid thigh and it was almost sheer, as lace had a habit of being, between the intricate floral design._

 _"I can see that you like it." She rolls her eyes as she trails her eyes over his chest to his trousers before striding from the doorframe to join him on the bed._

" _I do yes. But I was just as easily aroused downstairs Cora. The look doesn't-"_

 _"Robert. You don't need to defend yourself for being aroused more quickly at the sight of me in little clothing. It's human nature. It's only fair, I think at least, that after I've had all I've ever wanted today you should get a little of what you would like tonight." He nods at her reasoning but can't help feeling disappointed in himself. He should be able to control himself better. This relationship was beyond just physical. He truly did adore Cora and was more excited than any of his friends thought a man should be at the prospect of their marriage and eventual family._

 _She takes a strawberry from the bowl and holds it between her teeth, shuffling back on his lap and releasing the clasp on his trousers. He can't help but sigh at that which seems to be what she'd hoped for as he lunges naturally for her lips, catching the strawberry in his teeth. They break apart to chew only for her to do it again. The game continues for a while until he finds himself quite unable to resist pushing his fingers up beneath her nightdress. Touching the rounder curves of her bottom and sliding her lace panties from their place._

 _Her fingers contract over his shoulders to steady herself as he lets his finger flick between the mesh of curls that cover her arousal, the jerks of her hips impossible to hide. As he sets a little rhythm she settles flush against his chest. Her breasts either side of his chin as she rocks on her knees, trying to create the friction she needs with his fingers. He takes the opportunity to turn his lips to her breasts, gently swirling his tongue over the fabric of her dress which covers her soft skin. He moves his mouth along a little, easily finding the position of her hard nipples through the lace. He is not sure if her murmurs of approval are for his fingers or his mouth, not that it matters, she was finding pleasure which is what he wants._

 _One of her hands rubs suggestively over his clammy chest to his trousers at one point and he lays her on her back so she can finish pushing them down while he continues rubbing. Her murmurs of encouragement get louder as she frees him from his pants as well and Robert finds himself having to close his eyes in the deepest concentration he's ever felt when she rubs her fingers agonisingly slowly down his hard shaft._

 _His body was always sensitive to her fingers. Always. But he was so very sensitive there as Cora had quickly learnt. This was her favourite. Teasing him. She might be incapable of using words in her current state of arousal but Robert knew that wouldn't stop her. If he was about to force her to climax she would force him too._

 _His pattern changes inside her. With her hard massages along him he can't make his digits work in a contrasting rhythm. He ends up pushing as she drags and rubs her fingers along him and then circling inside her as her thumb traces over his tip._

 _She comes easily enough, her hands falling from him as she arches her back. He admires her sweat beaded forehead and the dark iris of her eye as she calms. Her chest heaves beneath her fancy nightdress and he pushes it up over her, she obligingly lifts her arms and he pulls it off._

 _She reaches back down for him but he takes her hands, the respite she had needed for her recovery had stilled him a little. She seems to get the picture when he kisses inside her belly button before leaving a path of open mouthed kisses to her breasts, each of which he devours with equal attention of both fingers and mouth. He adjusts his weight above her, finding the position he likes so much with ease. Straddled just above her, her legs already parted, he'd found a position that drove her crazy. His arousal just pressed to where she was expecting him, wanting him, and his lips were still in a perfect position to kiss her neck and mouth._

 _Normally he'd tease her like this for a good ten minutes. Dipping slightly inside her every so often and watching her eyes darken with each potential release; enjoying her fingers scratching at his back and littering her mouth and jaw with his budding kisses._

 _Tonight he manages very little of that, two minutes at the most, before he has to lower himself inside of her._

 _There is a pause then, he did always check to see she was alright, it was a habit of his. Tonight is no different aside from the fact the break is longer. More poignant and it includes words._

" _I love you." Her knuckles lightly stroke down over his cheek and chin, her thumb grazing over his lips._

 _"I love you too Mrs Robert Crawley, so very much I feel my heart will explode."_


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Firstly, a massive great big thank you for all the reviews! Secondly, this is a very long chapter, the longest yet (over 8,400 words) and we have some big drama developments here. Lastly, I've written over 100,000 words for this story as of last week, and I wanted to thank all of you for the reviews and favourites that have got me through! Enjoy.

* * *

 _Her fingers are clammy already and the speech she had to make was at least another half an hour away. This was her first Downton ball as Robert's wife. Robert had said that now she was his wife it was traditional that she would speak rather then his mother. The idea was usually to convey news of their husband outside of work, to give the people around them a flip side to the man they called boss. She'd taken the idea on the chin, had written a few words and was altogether quite happy with the outcome. That was until now._

 _The ball was always a trying evening. The first time she'd attended she'd known nobody, the second time she'd been an object of interest to everybody in the room—she'd official survived a year with Robert. Last year had easily been the best, people content to talk with her, even the women who had previously had eyes on Robert seemed to accept that he was off limits. This year was horrendous. Everyone stared, particularly the investors that hadn't seen the two of them together outside of the office since this time last year. She could hear the whispers around her, wives leaning into their husbands and taking guesses over how long the marriage would last._

 _"I suppose you still can't quite believe you managed to ensnarl him into marriage Cora. Indeed I can't. He seemed so ready to be a bachelor." This lady was one Cora knew a great deal about but had only met once. She was Gary's fiancée. The same Gary that she desperately tries to avoid when he was booked for an appointment at the office._

 _She was a little older than Cora, but not by much. Gary had been engaged to her for a few weeks now and Cora rather pitied her, she was convinced the vain woman had no idea what she was letting herself in for with Gary. What she did know though, was that Lydia was about as vain as a woman got and had once, not so very long ago had eyes for Robert. Big eyes. Gary had rather been a rebound and beneath it all Cora was convinced she was still planning on inching her way as best she could into Robert's life—that was where Gary came in clearly. For him marriage seemed ridiculous but Cora wasn't about to question him about it, that meant going near him after all._

 _"I wouldn't say I ensnarled him. It was him that made the choice to propose, not me."_

 _"Oh, did you not wish for his proposal then?"_

 _"I'm not the kind of woman that marries a man she doesn't want to marry. If I hadn't wanted his proposal I wouldn't have said yes. You might be content to move from one marriage to another, accept any man that has a semblance of money or whatever. But that isn't me." Robert appears by her side at that moment and saves her from embarrassing herself any more. He talks politely to Lydia for a moment, but seeming to sense her embarrassment he pulls her close to him, keeping his arm firmly on her waist. Lydia immediately backs off._

 _"You handled that very well." He whispers softly by her ear, aware that Lydia is still in hearing distance._

 _"I didn't. I was rude. Besides how do you know?"_

 _"I was listening. Which I imagine is the reason Lydia said such things. She hoped I would hear you being rude about me. And you definitely weren't rude, it was her that was being unthoughtful."_

 _"You might be slightly bias."_

 _"Bias is allowed. You're my wife, which I'm not going to lie, I'm still finding a little surreal." That makes her laugh. Their honeymoon had gone on forever. The first week had been very much an indoor adventure, namely due to the weather. They'd eaten out most evenings at the local pub and taken a trip to York on the only bright day. The second week had been a beautiful cruise that left her and Robert quite thrilled with Rome and Pompeii for the history, and Sorrento for the natural beauty. Other days they had lazed on the beautiful beaches at Villefranche while others got back onboard from Monaco. It had all been mighty surreal but she didn't quite feel that it was odd going home to the same house at night. She found it natural. She could see he found it slightly different, it was his house they were living in after all and he'd changed things about and moved into a new wing now they were married._

 _"I do hope you're finding it surreal in a good way, that you're enjoying it, being married?"_

 _"Of course I am." And with that he pushes her smoothly onto the dance floor._

 _The swirling relaxes her, being safely tucked in his arms was one sure way of making sure she didn't think too much about her little speech, about the words she wanted to say but she was worried would stay caught up inside. It took her mind from the looks she was sure she was going to get from the likes of Lydia who wanted her wiped from the earth._

 _"You're nervous." She rolls her eyes and chuckles ever so slightly. He had become so apt at understanding her._

 _"Of course I am. I don't want to make a fool of myself and embarrass you. These are your employees and investors. The people you rely on."_

" _Yes, I rely on them for business but they rely on you to make sure I get to work a happy man and remain organised. What I'm going to do when you leave me to stop working I have no idea." It was something they had decided, that she would stay for the moment as his secretary but she would stop working when they had children. She took being a mother very seriously, for all her mother's failings she had always been there for Harold and herself and she wanted that with her children—a reliable, hopefully more sensible figure._

 _"There's lots of time before then."_

 _"Maybe. But the point remains the same. I'm a different man without you, a man these people find hard to deal with."_

 _"You're not hard to get on with."_

 _"That's because you get to kiss me. It creates a new level to my personality." He has a warm smile in his eyes and she smiles softly back at him an element of embarrassment making her stomach flutter. It was so girlish she knew to dip her eyelashes at the mention of him kissing her, it still seemed as if they had just started dating but he did have a habit of making her feel this way in situations when she felt nervous or unsure._

 _The music ends and a champagne flute gets pushed into her hand, Robert taking her fingers as they walk for the podium._

 _"You'll be fine. They're all half drunk as it is." She wraps her clammy hand around the microphone before she can regret her decision and hide behind Robert. Everyone slowly turns to her and it's then she realises that Robert's nerve easing remark did actually apply to half the group, namely the men, who have to be tugged to face the right direction by their better halves. Her mind stops panicking and she steps a little closer to the silver mesh._

 _"When Robert asked me to introduce him, to take the place of his mother at tonight's ball my immediate thought was one of panic. How on earth was I to fill the shoes of my witty but honest mother-in-law. I dare say the job is an impossible one but I hope in the coming years I might add a new layer to the job and perhaps if I'm lucky I might stumble across her notes and borrow her jokes." That earns her an applause even from Violet who sits quietly in the corner. Robert certainly chuckles behind her._

 _"My second thought was one I liked. It was the sensation that finally I would be stood in a room with a great many people who mean an awful lot to me. Robert said earlier tonight that he relies on me, in my job, to keep his time organised, to prepare him for each of his many investors and colleagues to pay him visits. He gives me more credit than I deserve, which naturally I'll never admit again, in the hope he doesn't realise it's true." That was another laugh which keeps her content in her position at the front. Safe. "Maybe he does rely on my organisation but he wins you all over as investors, supports you as colleagues an in essence strives to keep you all happy. The establishment is a big family. You rely on his work, he relies on your investments. As I enter this family now in a larger way than I imagined I ever would I'd like to thank you first for your willingness to allow Robert and I our space and time, for your support and good wishes and last but not least for coping with and putting up with the chaos that ensued when Robert and I spent two weeks hidden away from you all. Without people like yourselves the establishment might have fallen into chaos at the first sign of the boss' departure. So, without further ado, let's raise our glasses to each other. The Downton Family."_

 _Robert steps up behind her, running his hand gently over the very bottom of her back, his splayed fingers smoothing her dress._

 _"I would like to thank you all very much for coming. I fear my wife has rather stolen the show, she's summed up everything I would like to say. She did miss one thing though, a toast to herself without whom none of you would ever be able to book appointments because I wouldn't have a clue when any of my others are! But above and beyond that, she's made me very happy with my life, beyond happy and I think, I hope, that is reflected in my work. To Cora." He leans over and kisses her cheek, nudging the corner of her lips as the crowd call out their toast. They carefully step away from the microphone before she speaks._

 _"You shouldn't embarrass me so. You know I don't like it. Or deserve it. You're the boss not me."_

 _"At work I'm the boss but not at home." She laughs at that as he guides her down the steps, it was true already that she had rearranged his, their, living room and reorganised the way he arranged his fridge. "Now, let's take another whirl on the floor."_

 _He turns her around, his large hands easily steering her small waist. His foot easily places itself between the two of hers and she falls easily into the spin the Jazz piece requires._

 _"Robert..." He appears to take no notice spinning her quickly again. When she's finally facing him again, clinging stupidly to his shoulder as he rotates them in a softer turn, going with the slowing of the music and the break from the main melody._

 _"I will spin you around as many times as it takes for everyone to be watching us."_

 _"You know I don't like that." They were cuddled together, swaying so slowly in the middle of other couples being more volatile around them._

 _"I'm teasing Cora. I just want to dance with you. I want to show off my beautiful wife to all these people."_

 _The rest of the evening passes quickly enough, Robert doesn't leave her side and they drift about the guests, checking in on their experience of the evening and then they simple leave, Robert leading her out to the car._

 _He sits in the middle seat of the back of the car as they drive home for which Cora is thankful, it's awfully cold and with him next to her she is able to warm at least the one side of her body while the other remains cold by the window, her back stuck uncomfortably to the sticky, cold leather seats._

 _"I was thinking of making a jacket potato when we get in, all that dancing made me hungry. Would you like me to put you one on while you change?" She wondered if he had actually been planning such a meal or whether he was just anticipating her need of some food when they'd eaten so quickly before leaving the house—they may or may not have gotten a little side tracked when they were getting changed (she hadn't been able to decide with underwear suited.)_

 _"That would be very nice."_

 _"You needn't sound quite so surprised Cora. I'm your husband, my job is to look after you. Besides we can't have you getting over tired can we?" She blushes at that, his fingers tickling her hip. "I was going to have beans but now you want one we could have tuna mayo and I'm sure there's some salad to finish it off." She swivels in her seat so she can finger his tie and take her fingers in his, pressing them to her lips._

 _"I love you Robert." He pulls her against him, kissing her hair._

 _The car pulls up on the drive and they jump out, rushing up the steps away from the breeze that was quivering the trees and whisking beneath her coat._

 _She'd got used to the grandeur of Grantham House a little in the years she and Robert had been dating. But now they were married and this was her home as well (she had kept her house, choosing to rent it out) she'd actually found that the grandeur became a lot less intimidating. She noticed the shoes strewn on the floor and the sets of keys residing on tables all over the hallway. Odd magazines having escaped from racks and all the wood jutting from the bucket by the fires in every room. It was all very homely and she rather liked it. Robert had decided that to make it even more like their home they should decorate his little office room as theirs with souvenirs from all their holiday's—they both wanted to travel a little before they started a family—and that this room would remain their little safe haven downstairs even after children came along. Cora thought it was a wonderful idea and they were in the process of readjusting the shelves of books and having a television plug fitted._

 _She throws her coat over the handrail of the stairs and takes a left at the top, finding her way quickly down the narrow passage to their bedroom at the end._

 _The room was larger than any she had lived in before, let alone any bedroom. A gigantic king sized bed, dominated the wall with the door. It was a high bed, original, but with a new mattress and modern bedding. Two wardrobes, dark with intricate floral designs sat on the wall to the right of the door. One was Robert's the other hers. Next to these is the ensuite. Directly opposite the door into this cool room, on the opposite wall, is the adjoining bedroom that she and Robert were using as an extension of their own. Cora's dressing table and mirror, again mainly original (the mirror had been updated with modern glass) sat between the two rectangular windows opposite the bed. In the last week they had moved a chest of drawers into the wall space to the left of the bed and the mahogany set of six had a television perched on the top that she and Robert and yet to indulge themselves by watching. All the rooms furniture is dark so the magnolia walls were a must to keep it from looking like a dungeon. The carpet was a darker shade than the paint but still a creamy gold. The picture rail that ran around the room, and the skirting boards, were a crisp white._

 _She finds her nightdress under her pillow and throws it on, leaving her dress in the laundry. Her dressing gown is easily retrievable from the back of the bathroom door and she slips her arms through the fluffy sleeves. She always liked the feel of the soft fabric, it was a replacement for Robert's comforting skin when he was away, not that he'd been missing since they've married._

 _She starts removing her make up, not that there's very much of it, she was never one that saw the point in covering her face with creams._

 _He startles her when he grabs her waist, she had been so busy concentrating on passing the wipe over her eyes she'd missed him entering the bathroom._

 _"Food's on the bed. And I've brought up some films." He vanishes, presumably to get changed._

 _She finishes in the bathroom and heads straight to the bed where her jacket potato steams, lots of melted butter puddling beneath it. Robert had even added a more than generous amount of mayonnaise to her salad which clearly labelled it as hers._

 _She dips her finger indulgently into the tuna as she flips through the films Robert had brought upstairs, she didn't want to start eating while he was still getting changed in the other room. It was a funny habit of his, and had been since she'd gained the inside knowledge to notice it. He was perfectly fine letting her take his clothes off, all of them, but to change from one outfit into another he preferred not to be watched. She'd teased him about it a few times years ago and had wondered if it would change when they were married but it hadn't._

 _"What's the blank tape?" She needn't have called quite so loudly as he appears at that moment in the doorway._

 _"I wasn't sure. Why don't we take a look?" She opens the packet and when she finds still no hint on the tape itself her brow furrows._

 _She slots it into the machine and is amazed when after some loud buzzing she sees her own likeness appear on the screen. The colosseum looming in the background, Robert by her side. The picture then changes, rather then the pose she sees herself doubled over laughing, Robert clutching at her waist, still outside the colosseum. The frame shifts again; the Spanish steps then the Trevi fountain—Robert must have snapped a shot as she'd thrown her coin in._

 _She falls backwards onto the bed, where Robert has his plate perched across his lap. She kisses his neck before taking her own plate and sitting cross legged beside him._

 _"The guy at the photo place suggested I had them put on a video which I can see is a very nice idea."_

 _"It's wonderful. We can relive them lots of times then without worrying about damaging the prints."_

 _She tastes the beauties of the tuna and the crumbles of the potato, the crunch of the skin but her thoughts are miles away, in Italy and then Villefranche. Her thoughts skit to being onboard the ship they'd travelled on with the sunset across the ocean, the all day food, discos and classical music. It had all been part of the second week of their honeymoon, very different from the first and spectacular in its own way. Not that being back on dry land had been at all bad, she and Robert were seeming to manage marriage and the office without too much hassle._

 _The photographs were a beautiful reminder of the places and the atmosphere that had emanated around them but Cora knows the most important part was never caught on film. Nowhere was there a shot of Robert's eyes as he looked at her nor was there one that showed the emotions that bubbled within her when she was with him. Those were all feelings she and Robert were going to make not into mementoes of days past, but a constant in their life together as a whole._

* * *

Clammy. That was why she had thought of that day. She also knew that she needed today to turn out as well as that night had. But at this moment she doesn't feel as though it will.

The hospital was cold and overcrowded. People in blue rushing all around her. She heads out to the hospital garden, checking over her shoulder on two occasions. Robert wasn't following her, which was good.

As she reaches the ground floor and the doorway out into the garden, spying the tree on the corner that he had spoken about she stops. Stops dead. The metal of the door handle is over warm conducting the heat of the sweltering day. It burns at her fingers while her head bubbles with anticipation and her heart thunders in reluctance.

She conjures up those images she loves so much. Her girls. Holidays. Robert. She brings to mind the image of the newest addition to the family. Her granddaughter. In this very building all seven and a bit ounces cradled in Edith's arms. She was to be called Marigold.

Cora visualises her soft golden curls and the tiny eyelashes that had flicked open only once to reveal pale blue eyes. She'd gurgled after feeding the first time and Cora was pleased she'd taken to Edith so easily, her daughter had been excessively worried about that part.

She sees all these things in her minds eye as she steps onto the grass. Her hands cover the baby that bubbles beneath, kicking every few steps she takes.

He'd sent a note three days ago suggesting here as a meeting place. She didn't know if Peter would be there, pretending to be his side kick but she doubted it. Simon wouldn't even trust a man he thought his ally near the evidence he had.

She'd cried without Robert knowing these last few weeks unable to comprehend in the darkness that she was loved, that Simon was truly her past. She'd tried to blame the baby when Rosamund had found her in these states and she had to admit without the witty, stable influence of that woman she wasn't sure she would have made it through. She's been a laughing constant in the last month and a precious clear thinking head to discuss issues over the girls with.

The back of his head looks the same. The seemingly long length from top to bottom with his hair cut back so his ears are visible. It was slightly more lengthy on top but not by much. He must have been waiting for her to arrive because he turns and his profile is enough to make her stop again.

A cascade of images behind her lids make her eyes squeeze shut. Her mind whips up the kisses she had forgotten, the joking of his friends around her small form, the pretend admirer he had been, it all gets stacked away behind those recent happier memories. Pushed right to the back of the tray laying dormant while the memories at the front jump and shout.

She briefly wonders how on earth she'd lived with him, agreed to marry him. She knew more now of course. She can see him for who he truly is, rather than the man he pretended to be all those years ago. And there were other factors that had weighed her down in the beginning of her relationship with Simon—namely her parents. They had seemed so keen at the idea so sure that Cora tying herself to the business was the best thing to do. She'd fallen for it because she'd known nothing else. And then when she'd followed him that morning, spoken to those other women, all defending him, pretending it was alright, she'd flipped and a day later was halfway across the world heading for a new life. England had welcomed her with more than open arms. She adored it here and she wasn't about to let Simon waltz his way in and destroy it.

She rubs her stomach once more to sooth her. The racing of her heart beneath her ribs a clear indication that she is more scared than her mind is trying to think she is. Her legs seem unable to function beneath her and she feels the weight of her limbs as she tries to get them to do what she wants. They eventually prevail but not without loud calls from her subconscious mind.

"I doubt the baby's dear Robert's but it's good to see you're not wasting your life overpopulating the earth with miniature perfect children like yourself." She wasn't expecting him to be kind, no, but she had been anticipating a semblance of maturity with his older age, but seemingly not.

"It's good to see you too Simon."

"Oh I am pleased it is. I've got some jobs for you."

"Really? Your appearance in England had nothing to do with the charge of rape against you that is about to reappear in the American press. I must say you'd effectively hidden that one or should I say blackmailed her effectively?" There was no point in dancing around the subject. They both knew why he was here even if he didn't know she did. She'd rather get it over with.

"Oh forget dear Miss Reynolds. She'll be dead from her cancer by next week."

"But it hasn't stopped her bringing those charges of ten years ago back alive. Nor did it stop her from contacting me last week." He springs from the seat at that. It wasn't strictly true of course—Peter had given her the heads up and she had called Miss Reynolds—but Simon didn't need to know that.

"What did she say?" He looks towards her and she steps back. He was threatening with his lips in a line, arms out in front of him, stretching towards her.

"She said very little. I told her I was meeting you and would sort the problem."

"Your title has gone to your head Cora. Just because you're the Countess of Grantham you seem to think you can blackmail me." His spit lands on her face, and she backs away. Her words might be bitter and strong but her heart disagreed. Every step he takes nearer the faster it thumps. She wonders how it never did this before, showed this obvious fear but she hadn't known then. She hadn't truly known what he was capable of.

"I think no such thing. All I do is based on sound morals. Now how about you tell me what you need doing and I will decide if I'm willing or not."

"You have to sign, on the line." He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket, dramatically whipping it before her eyes.

"What's it for?"

"To stop some rubbish about you and I reaching the papers. I thought Peter had explained?"

"He did. But now I'm asking you to."

"It's a video of the two of us and it suggests some incorrect things about our relationship."

"Incorrect?" She flaps the pen Simon's handed her about in the air. She didn't have long now. Big Ben could be heard chiming eleven and she'd told Sybil five past. She should call at five past. They would be here by ten past. Ten minutes. She could manage that.

"Some heavy suggestions."

"Really. Rape?" She knew Simon would be working on the fact she didn't know. And indeed she still couldn't technically remember. He sighs, saying nothing. So she keeps her eyes trained on his. "You can't expect me to sign a form when I don't know what story I'm protecting. There's a chance I might not want to protect it." He stares long and hard at her, eyebrows raised, head tilted and his eyes are calculating. "You are a wanted criminal after all."

"You will want to sign."

"Really. Tell away then." She predicts his next move before he makes it. A snarl followed by a wretched grin. It was blackmail time.

"Fine. But first, there's something to show you. Something that will reach the ears of the British press in time for tomorrow's paper unless you sign for me."

"Really? That is an interesting suggestion. I've always been one to keep my private life well protected I doubt any of my confidantes have been leaking to you."

"Not yours perhaps."

"From that I can assume it is fidelity and morals that are in question and it's probably Robert's which you have evidence to question." She knew what the evidence was, Peter had called her a month or so ago. It hadn't hurt either, as Peter had thought it would. She had known that Jane an Robert had kissed, it wasn't a new image in her mind. She'd never mentioned it to Robert or made him tell because she hadn't had to. Watching him writhe in his sleep and complain of nightmares was enough to arise suspicion and when it was coupled with the words he spoke as he awoke, his desperate pleadings with his dream self to 'not do it,' 'don't kiss her' made it all rather self explanatory.

"You are clever aren't you Cora dear. You would have made a good wife I must say. So intelligent."

"I know my own family Simon and they happen to love me and trust me. There are no secrets."

"Really?" He laughs, shaking his head. "I doubt that. Even when it comes to kissing other people?"

"Yes, even then. Even when the kiss is beyond an accident and he might have even led her on." She stands from the bench, paper and pen still in hand. "That's a lesson for you Simon. A good marriage. A good relationship is one without secrets. If Miss Reynolds' story comes to nothing try that for me. Try honesty." She was meant to stop there she truly was, her phone buzzes once in her pocket as she had set it to at five past eleven, but it doesn't remind her to slow down, that help was on its way. "Try explaining what you want from this girl you're planned to marry rather then forcing her. Drugging her. Raping her." She goes to tear the paper but he's stumbled the distance towards her and pulls it from her grasp, tearing it himself. He swears at the state of it before kicking the bench.

"You scheming liar Cora. You knew, you knew all of it didn't you?"

"Not until recently. I remembered you well enough to know what you would try." That wasn't strictly true but she wasn't going to get Peter in trouble, he'd done nothing but help her and Robert.

"But how did you recover the memory? The pub?"

"I haven't. Nor will I ever. But what I did remember is enough, easy enough to put the pieces together once I let them."

"Ahh!" He slams the bench again. Before waving his finger at her. "I knew it. I knew the fancy pansy scheming Miss Levinson would be my downfall. Swanning around with your husband and kids all the time plotting, waiting for the right moment. You were my favourite too, I had everything with you. Money, position, your father pandering to my wants. Chloe was about at that time and quite happy as my piece on the side and you oh you gave me everything in your terrified innocence it was truly a treat to watch." He's edged closer to her again, leaning over her. She makes to step away which is when he grabs at her waist. At Edward.

She kicks instinctively. Pushing her hands out to shove him away. But he's stronger. Bigger. Her feet give beneath her and she falls backwards towards the ground. One hand reaches instinctively for the baby the other for the ground to try and soften her fall.

She'd missed the flurry of feet around her and another set of hands that catch her. The last thing she hears is the yelp of Simon and his call of fright. The distant sounds of sirens accompany the closing of her eyes and the soft stab of pain she'd felt a few weeks ago in her belly, only it is more prolonged, her thoughts go black.

* * *

He flexes the sore knuckles, admiring in an odd way the seeping of blood from two of them.

The day was unfolded very differently to what he had expected. He'd known Simon was coming today and Peter had met him as planned outside the hospital. What he hadn't known was that Peter had told Cora as well and she had in fact agreed to meet Simon. Now here they were, he and Peter argueing in hushed voices in the pathway, in perfect view of Cora and Simon. Peter does have a wise point about him being more likely to leave Cora alone in the future if he saw her now to be unwilling to follow his plans.

Robert had almost jumped forward on a few occasions already, thoroughly enraged by the comments the man made. He'd has all that rage bubbling inside of him along with the deeper throbbing pain that if he was a decent husband Cora wouldn't have to be facing this man that had destroyed her so long ago.

It's when he touches her, his fingers snaking possessively over their baby boy that he flies from Peter's grasp. Peter had been right behind him which now he looked, turning away from his bleeding knuckles and Simon, he finally lays his eyes on Cora, Peter right behind her his hands supporting her shoulders, having cushioned what must have been a fall but the look on Peter's face, the tone he uses into the phone as he asks for an ambulance makes Robert drift his eyes down, her chest rising and falling far too shallowly.

The police move to Simon asking questions but Robert is in a haze. Dr Clarkson's words float around his head. Strenuous activity, falls. All of it was bad. Cora had been over doing it anyway. She'd been stressed.

She'd fallen on her back and by what Peter was saying he'd cushioned the upper half of her body from the fall but that hadn't necessarily saved their baby.

Robert smoothes his hand over her stomach. Hoping for their very active baby to prove his heart is still beating. Nothing. He keeps moving his hand thinking he's missed it. But he hasn't.

Peter keeps mumbling things about it all working out when Sybil appears at his elbow. He doesn't question what she is doing but despite her young age he trusts her absolutely when she says that all will be fine.

Two men in green come rushing over seconds later and start asking questions. The moment he mentions Cora's pregnancy condition they forget giving her more air and move her seamlessly onto the stretcher. He follows them in a daze to the ambulance. The minute they are inside they ask if they may remove her trousers, he nods his approval, they needed to check her condition he supposes.

"You're her husband?"

"Yes."

"Has she had any bleeding since she was diagnosed with the preavia?"

"Once to my knowledge about a month ago."

"Did the doctor say it was quite heavy?"

"He warned her to be more careful. That the amount she'd bleed was not far off what they called the maximum limit and an early delivery would have been necessary if it hadn't stopped." One paramedic nods the other is strapping her up to the ultrasound.

"There's a little blood. But if she's bleed before that is nothing dreadful after a heavy fall with her condition. The good news is it appears to have stopped which rules out the chance of emergency delivery unless we can't find the heart beat of the baby." And that's when his heart plummets. It plummets before the men even before they finish hooking her up to the machine and smothering her belly with gel.

The three of them stare at the dial intently for what is only seconds but the worried looks on all their faces and the adrenaline that courses far too quickly through Robert's body suggests it's hours.

Then the sloshing sound that had grown familiar reaches his ears. The sloshing that has a rhythm. The beating of the baby's heart.

"Thank god." The paramedic moves the sensor around and keeps his eyes focused on the screen.

"Yes. And the baby hasn't turned or anything so the cord isn't caught." He whips the sensor off of Cora and removes the gel.

Just as they are cleaning the excess fluid his colleague who had attached other monitors to Cora and had been bathing her head with a wet cloth pushes him swiftly to the side. He says nothing just grabs the oxygen mask off the wall and places it over Cora's mouth.

"Her breathing rate has dipped again and her blood pressure is heading to dangerous lows." Her shoves a monitor for heart rate on her finger. "Sir. Could you talk to her. She'll be able to hear you I think. I don't want her heart to slow anymore. It's bad for the baby and with her blood pressure so low could easily lead to cardiac arrest." As he moves towards her head he gently rolls Cora into a recovery position, keeping her head up to maximise air flow removing the mask as he does so.

He looks back down at his broken knuckles as he strokes his hand over Cora's head. They were nothing in comparison to this. He thinks of all the fuss that had been made over Simon and he realises how insignificant it all was. He should have been focusing on the only thing that was truly important at the moment, seeing Cora safely through her pregnancy. He should have been taking care of her, looking out for her. Instead he allowed her to walk into the hands of a man who was not to be trusted.

"Cora sweetheart. Please if you can hear me turn your head, or squeeze my hand." Nothing happens so he takes her fingers to his lips not trusting himself to speak.

"How much has she drunk today, eaten?" Robert tried to think back through the fog of the debacle with Simon. In truth they'd hardly eaten anything. Edith had been rushed to the hospital late last night and then had time for one cup of coffee.

"Not much."

"I think she's probably suffering from heat stroke her temperature is high, and the blood pressure is too low. Low even for normal and she's pregnant, which usually makes it naturally higher. The temperature is hot today for England and if she hasn't drunk properly her body has every right to rebel."

An abrupt clearing of a throat behind them makes Robert turn. A policeman looms in the doorway.

"Mr Robert Crawley I believe. May I ask a few questions now that your wife seems stable?" He only nods. He shouldn't have punched Simon that much was for sure. No doubt he'd have to perform community service for a week. "There is little to say. Your daughter has the video tape which she has showed the police which explains the situation well enough. And Mr Bricker is a wanted man in America and he has agreed to press no charges. I do however have a duty as a police officer to remind you that attacking every man that touches your wife is not general practice."

"Of course officer. I entirely respect that."

"Very good. Also, Peter Wallace has mentioned some stolen video footage, he'd thought you had brought it to our attention. Why may I ask have you not?" Robert doesn't tell him it's because he decided to take matters into his own hands, he was already looking fairly bad with the punch up, without keeping evidence from the police. The truth was he'd known who'd done it, and Simon's others crimes were of far greater importance to society. The chances were Simon wouldn't even be able to be traced to the stolen footage and he had promised he would protect Jane's name.

"I only found out this morning. And they are of little significance." The policeman only raises his eyebrows but says nothing.

"I will let you return to your wife." He turns away and Robert feels his brow scrunch firstly at how Sybil had become so involved. She'd got a video of the entire thing which surely meant someone had told her what was going to happen. As he hadn't that must have been Cora. His brow scrunches for the second time as his eyes squeeze together to block the image of the paramedics inserting a drop into Cora's arm. No sooner does he return to her side than the blonde man calls for them to be driven 'around the back' and the ambulance sets off.

"Your wife is stable Sir. But we will transfer her to a bed in the hospital and monitor her fluids and blood pressure for the next twenty four hours or so as well as making sure the fall doesn't result in any further bleeding."

Twenty minutes later Cora is safely in a bed. It seems to be hours of sitting by her bedside and a trip for coffee from the machine in the hall. But in reality it's no more than thirty minutes of staring at Cora's hand, smoothing the pads of his fingers softly over her knuckles. But it's still thirty minutes of silence. Thirty minutes of sitting in Cora's presence in a silence that isn't comfortable. It's painful. Grippingly painful. He rests his hand on her belly on regular occasions and is pleased to find little Edward still kicks every so often.

Mary agrees to relieve him at one point so he can visit the toilet and Edith. He was desperate to see his granddaughter again if only to marvel over her beautiful features and Edith's natural step into motherhood. But none of it really softens the flames that are burning around his heart. Holding Marigold only served to remind him what he and Cora had almost lost today and Robert knew it would have been so bad if it had. Cora would never have forgiven herself and Simon's horror would have encroached upon their marriage. The result would have been disastrous he is sure. They'd had their moments this year but that would have been the cherry on the top for them never quite recovering.

He traipses back to the room Cora had been assigned, leaving Edith to follow the instructions of the nurses as they talked her through her baby's first weeks. They were allowing her to leave as soon as early tomorrow morning, the doctor having checked her stitches and giving them the clear. He was, as it happened the same doctor who had been assigned to Cora—Doctor Bertie Pelham.

Returning to Cora he knows a look of disappointment crosses his face when she is still very much unconscious on the bed.

The room hadn't changed either, he was rather hoping that a new set of flowers might have appeared at another patients bedside or a mother had been rushed off to give birth to her baby and that a new patient he hadn't been looking at would have filled her space. But no such luck is true. The only change is Mary stood by Cora's bedside, smoothing her hair.

"She'll come round Dad. The doctors are monitoring closely. Her blood sugar is fine and her blood pressure has returned to a stable level. The baby is showing no signs of distress on the last count. They are still one hundred percent sure it was heat stroke brought on my dehydration and lack of sleep." He nods, the coffee drifting from his hand to the bedside table as he cups her fingers in his own again.

"I can't help thinking it's my fault. I should have been keeping a closer eye." Mary sidles up behind him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You can't do any more Pa."

"Not now perhaps. But before. I shouldn't have let her stay with Edith through the whole labour. You or I would have been perfectly capable of supporting her." Mary says nothing at that, just busies herself pouring a glass of water for herself. Robert thinks back over the morning. He, Rosamund and Mary in the waiting room, attempting to amuse themselves with the newspapers and magazines. Matthew had appeared at one point but Mary had urged him to go home, that she'd be back soon and he had work in the morning anyway. It had all been marginally strange now he thought of it. Matthew himself had looked so confused at being pushed away and soon after Robert remembers him and Rosamund deciding on a last walk to the coffee machine to try and keep themselves awake but Mary had declined, when they'd come back she'd been missing. "Where did you go this morning anyway?" It was becoming clear that Mary was hiding something from him and Cora at the very least, and probably Matthew.

"Just for a walk."

"Mary. It was five in the morning. I'm not going to fall for that."

"It's nothing important."

"When my daughter suddenly disappears and then refuses to tell me why I hardly think it's not important." Mary rolls her eyes pulling up a nearby chair to sit next to him. She is uptight though, he can tell. An air of insecurity envelopes her.

"I don't want to tell you but it seems I have no choice. I was having a test done. I thought while I was here I might as well get checked for something I've been worrying about."

"Oh?"

"It was woman stuff. So I won't bore you." Just the thought of it being to do with anything feminine puts Robert right off. It was odd really in a house of women but that was the way he was. Cora enjoys teasing him about how squeamish he is, particularly recently, when she could joke that he'd never cope with giving birth.

"Were you right? About what you thought?"

"I don't know yet."

"Can I ask what it was?" Mary was never one to be nervous. School plays, singing in concerts, nothing had ever bothered her but right now she's shaking softly. Fingers twisting so awkwardly in her lap.

"I'd rather not talk about it now. I need to speak to Mum and I don't rightly know what will come of it all."

"It's not life threatening though?"

"No." A portion of air Robert hadn't realised he's had sucked in slips over his lips and he reaches forward to take Mary's hand. She might be married and grown up but he still saw the little girl in her sometimes. The little girl she tried so hard to keep hidden from view.

"You're here." He'd been so focused on his daughter he'd missed the scratchy rustle of the hospital sheets. The clawing sound as Cora had turned a little, pushing the linen away.

"Thank god." He takes the hand he'd been holding for so long and kisses it. She gurgles a soft giggle from the pillow as Mary stands and moves away. "You gave us all quite a fright."

"Is the baby alright?"

"Fine. Peter caught your fall. The doctors have diagnosed heat stroke. They want to keep you here a while. Your blood pressure dropped dangerously low." She only nods slowly. He watches as her eyes drift around the room taking everything in.

"Simon?"

"All sorted. The police came." She nods again, her whole head following Mary as she leaves the room. Her brow scrunches and Robert can tell already that she knows something is wrong with Mary. She doesn't mention it though, instead deciding to launch into a little chat about Marigold. Robert indulges her, goodness he'd talk about anything just to remind himself that she was awake now. Talking. Squeezing his hand. Laughing. She gets annoyed the more he presses her palm to his lips but he can't help it. The soft little blush she didn't know she was producing was enough to keep him rooted to the spot forever even with an uncomfortable, creaky chair, the smell of disinfectant and the white washed rooms that screamed disaster. He would stay. This was his place and he was going to stay. He was going to make a better effort too, watching her, making sure she didn't work too hard. He'd almost failed to protect her today and that wasn't going to happen again.


	17. Chapter 17

Cora had thought shopping was a good idea when Robert had mentioned it to her while they'd still been curled (as much as they could manage with her seven and half month bump) together in bed that morning. They didn't have any baby clothes after all, and although she and Rosamund had found the crib and pram from the attic, the latter was in need of replacement—the fabric having worn quite thin on the seat.

She and Robert had never got to the trip, things with Simon and work weighing too heavily on their minds. That was all done now though. Simon was back in America facing his trial. The video he had been trying to keep from the media was to be taken as further evidence and Cora had been asked for a witness statement by the prosecution although as it currently stood she was likely to be spared attending. The American courts were racing the trial through before Christmas which was when little Edward was due.

She had managed to neatly sidestep the topic every time Robert brought it up. It was clear he knew that she had known about the Simon situation longer than she had let on and that she hadn't told him she knew Simon was coming hat day at the hospital. She did know everything he knew, Peter had always called her first and explained his findings before consulting her as to what to tell Robert. It had made it easy for her to keep things from him which she knew was the worst thing she could have done. It was the part of her conduct she was least proud of. Robert hadn't told her what he had been told that was true but Cora did feel he had an excuse—she was in a delicate condition. Yet she had just been trying to be strong, to prove a point, a point she had made right until Simon had reached out to caress her baby. Robert wanted answers she just wasn't quite ready to give them yet, to admit that for once she had wanted to strike her own mark without his assistance. She might be his wife, his Countess and the mother of his children but she was beginning to feel that was all she was, she wanted a life of her own one day too. She was already thinking that once the baby was big enough she might think about doing a university course so she could have a job at one of the art museums in London she loved so much. Or maybe just that, a job. It would be nice she realised to have a job again, someone paying for her work. She bad volunteered a lot in the last ten years but somehow she wanted something regular where she would meet people that enjoyed what she enjoyed and she wasn't just the woman who volunteers because she had enough money not to work properly.

New line of worries were just appearing over the horizon that needed more attention than her job prospects though, Mary was dealing with a medical issue she was refusing to tel anyone but herself about—and even that had been excessively reluctant. A few months ago that really would have knocked Cora's confidence about how good a mother she was, but her yet unborn baby boy was serving to keep her mind from being swamped with unpleasant feelings. Then there was Edith who was settling into being a mother far better than her circumstances would have suggested. She clearly adored Marigold.

With these mixture of thoughts swirling in her mind and Robert's fingers looped in hers she was making her way around the bustling city. Chaotic would have been a better way to describe it, lots of Christmas displays had started up and people were already flooding the streets in their thousands. The feeling of claustrophobia was too much for Cora who found the sticky warmth of so many bodies very uncomfortable. The warm seemed to seep up her back between her shoulder blades despite the cool wind that whipped around. She might have been able to bear it if it wasn't for the hard concrete of the pavement as they dodged couples refusing to break hands carrying hundreds of bags, children scuttling around their feet waving stuffed toys or sweets, and the tourists who stood in the middle of the walkway admiring different buildings. Whoever it was, the constant changes in direction she had to make were wearying her already aching toes and they'd only visited one shop.

"Robert can we go somewhere for some food? I'm hungry and my feet need a rest."

"Of course. Debhenams are just up here on the left we'll go into their restaurant making a little tour of the baby clothes on the way." He was so eager for all the shopping, which really wasn't a usual trait of his but in Mothercare he had poured over the prams as if searching for invisible pockets or banned substances. No sooner had he made a decision he was onto the newborn clothes deciding which fabric was the softest and which poppers were the easiest to undo. He'd found so many things he liked Cora had barely got a word in to remind him it might be worth getting some in a bigger size—Edward wouldn't fit the clothes after a couple of months and she didn't want to waste money. Cora had been more than amused when he'd started gushing over the little girl dresses before choosing one for Marigold.

He'd been rather hectic in his method of shopping though, a clear reflection of his tumbled mind finally being able to focus on what it really wanted to after so much stress, and it had made Cora still more confused as she tried to calculate how much they were spending and what they really needed.

"Sweetheart, what do you want?"

"Oh, sorry." The lady behind the counter was staring expectantly at her but with a soft smile on her face as she watched Cora smoothing her fingers over her bump. "Um..." She looks at the board mounted on the back wall, her mind flits between simple sandwiches, jacket potato and the cottage pie. "Robert-"

"Yes." She blushes stupidly as he wraps his arm tightly around her waist, already grinning. "Which two would you like?" She'd been eating like nothing on earth her whole pregnancy but Clarkson had assured her it was probably a good thing so she hadn't let it phase her and Robert was very good at indulging her whim.

"The tuna mayo sandwiches and the cottage pie." The lady notes it all down and moves them along to the drinks counter.

"A surprise pregnancy?" Cora isn't sure if the woman is speakingto her or if she was mumbling to a collaegue she speaks so softly.

"Yes."

"Well congratulations."

The food doesn't take long to arrive, they were before the big lunch hour rush after all, and Cora finds herself devouring the sandwiches while her pie cools. Robert sits chuckling as he watches her before conversation turns to all the things he thinks they need for Eddie (the nickname he had taken to that he knows she hates).

A new car seat was a must, the other one had a broken where the seat belt went through and was now dangerous and Robert wanted a new mobile for the crib which Cora thought was a waste, Mary had liked it while the other girls had cried until it was removed, she'd rather see how Edward took to the old one before investing in a better one.

"But Cora, Marigold can have it."

"Robert, there's things we need. A car seat and Edith is using our crib, so we need to buy one."

"I know. I know. But babies don't just sleep."

"How about we come to a compromise. A new crib and car seat but no new mobile, instead we can purchase two new toys." He steals a forkful of potato from the top of her steaming pie.

"Very well Mrs Crawley. It seems I've been told." She jabs him with her shoe under the table but he's smiling which meant so very much when they'd had as rough a time this last month as they'd had back in February.

They finish the food soon enough, including the beautiful strawberry tart with extra sauce and layers of whipped cream and custard, and Cora finds herself not soon after in a queue at the checkout purchasing a mitten and hat set.

"I think we should try Hamleys for the toys."

"It's so overpriced there Robert you know that. Besides I don't think I've got my Oyster card and I'm not paying for the tube even if I could stand it, but in truth I'll probably be sick." He nods softly pulling her against him and kissing her hair.

"Of course. Of course."

"Robert, as much as I enjoy all this fussing there is nothing stopping you going to Hamleys. I can take care of myself I am a fully grown adult."

"You are. But you're a heavily pregnant adult." He presses kisses to her hair again as they walk down the street. They'd left their purchases in Mothercare for collection later.

"Robert?" It was something she'd been meaning to mention to him since before the Simon debacle. Since she and Rosamund had spoken about it two months ago.

"Um?"

"What do you think of the name Stephen?"

"It's fine but I thought we'd settled on Edward."

"We had, we have..."

"But you don't like my nickname?"

"No. This isn't about that. It's about Rosamund." Robert doesn't seem to follow her, so as they curve through the crowd into a toy shop that is far more affordable on this side of the city, she explains. Robert seems shocked for a second, pauses beneath the fan pumping air into the shop and taking deep breaths. "I thought we could use the name as our boy's middle name?"

"Why the hell did she never say?"

"That's what I said. She was scared Robert, alone and scared. I can't imagine your mother helped things badgering on about our three daughters and her zero."

"I have no issues with the name. But I think we should check with Roz, we don't want her being uncomfortable."

Toys easily chosen they return to Mothercare and spend the next half an hour exploring more clothes and picking up some much needed supplies just in case the birth was early, which Clarkson was still half convinced it might be.

Cora is deeply engrossed in the stand of baby hats desperately trying to decide if the set of three blue ones with different patterns was really worth it or whether she'd prefer to just buy the one more expensive hat with the teddy bear ears.

She's so busy concentrating that when she spies Robert a short distance away clutching two rather amusing breast pumps in one hand, his eyebrows knitted together she swallows a giggle before she leans over his shoulder.

"I don't see how these are viable for children to play with, they look rather dangerous and the price." He gestures to the hundred plus price, still twisting the pump they'd put on display in his hands. "I mean...it hasn't even got bright colours for the toddler to recognise." She snorts then biting her hand that rests beneath her chin on his shoulder in an attempt to stifle it. He turns nonetheless and she peaks her eyes up to find his eyebrow still knitted above his.

"It's not a children's toy Robert."

"Oh?" He twists it back around trying to decipher it from a different angle.

"It's a breast pump." He gingerly returns it to the shelf, the warmest, reddest blush tinging right up to his ears. He looks at it one last time with his new knowledge and Cora sees the look of understanding fall before his eyes.

She takes his hands and places them gently on their baby. She leans forward and kisses him gently on the cheek.

"I love it when you make me laugh at you." Hee shakes his head.

"Funnily enough I like it less. But I do like it when you kiss me to apologise." He leans as close as he can get with their baby in between to kiss her again.

"Now we better not get too much more it won't fit in the car." She was more worried about them getting it all _to_ the car if she was honest. Robert was going to have to carry it all after all because there was no way in his current mood he would let her carry more than the set of tiny hats she'd just purchased.

He collects the piles of other goods and a gentleman offers to walk some of it to the car for them (Robert had refused home delivery, he said he hated people judging him by his house).

"Cora?" She couldn't help silently cursing the long walk back to the car park, it was just enough time for Robert to delve inside her thoughts and attempt to extract the information she was keeping from him. She just didn't feel quite ready with everything that was happening to admit how terrified she really had been over Simon nor had she yet admitted the strange mixture of feelings that had settled over her since seeing him. And then there was the reality that she had been a rape victim. That she had been raped. She wasn't a total victim or she would not have ever picked up her life again she is sure, but the reality was that was now a darkness that sat in the back of her mind threatening in the worst moments. She could keep it at bay in moments like these, keeping her mind focused but if she woke in the middle of the night and Robert was just a little too far away from her reach she panicked and was transported back to her younger self.

"Yes."

"Has Mary told you what her appointment at the hospital was about yet?" Cora breaths an inward sigh of relief, she could talk about Mary, or rather she could convey what Mary had allowed her to. It was Mary's health they were talking about after all. Her sexual health.

"Yes. But before you panic. It's all sorted and is certainly nothing to mention to Matthew he will be embarrassed." Mary had told Matthew it was true, but not in explicit terms. She just explained she'd had a slight change in her usual cycles and the doctors had found a little problem that they had now duly removed. As far as Cora was concerned Robert wasn't even going to know that.

"Is there anything I should know?"

"It was a fertility thing and a good job she picked it up now." The funny thing was it was that which was panicking her, Cora knew well enough the only way Mary could have picked such a thing up is if she and Matthew were trying for a baby. She could lie to Matthew about cycles changing but Cora knew that was a lie, so did Mary. It worried Cora because she did feel as though Mary shouldn't be tying herself down to children before she'd had more from her career. She rather thought it was a rash decision she and Matthew had made as a compromise for their seemingly never ending disagreement over the fortune Matthew had recently inherited. She had an odd feeling that Mary had told Matthew they might as well get on with a family if that was all he wanted the money for, if he had invested into the Establishment it would look as though he valued Mary's career more. The problem was, unlike Cora, Mary wasn't actually one to tell people she wanted them to work it out. Where she often flipped out with Robert, Mary stayed cold and silent, calculating.

"Oh well. Right."

"I love you." She doesn't know quite what takes over her but once everything is loaded in the car and he's helped her into her seat it somehow seems fitting. It had been a good day, filled with multiple laughs mainly at Robert's expense and he was being very good to not press questions over the Mary situation.

He takes her fingers gently and Cora chuckles as he peppers them with tickling kisses. His tongue tingles between her knuckles as his thumb traces over the ring he'd given her on holiday.

"I love you too. Now, home it is, you need to rest." She almost complains at his insistence but when he presses a last kiss to her wrist she closes her mouth. This was it, this was how it should be for the next two months, the two of them quietly preparing for their baby boy.

* * *

Robert's fingers dance over her delicate top as it rises and falls with her soft breathing. He didn't want to wake her, he really didn't, but little choice remained if they were going to get to their destination on time.

"Cora. Darling, I'm home." Her eyes drift open and she shakes her head, trying to close them again. "I've booked for us to go out." She yawns rather widely her hand coming up to push the hair from her face.

"I'm tired."

"I know you are sweetheart. But this is my treat." He takes her hands as she sits up, helping her to stand.

Her top was a long one that allowed her to wear comfortable leggings beneath it but it was all crumpled from her sleep much like her hair. He pushes away some stray pieces that had fallen from her plait as he kisses her forehead. She was a big eight months just gone, pregnant, everyone would know instantly.

"Where are you taking your great lump of a wife anyway?"

"It's a surprise. And you're not a lump. You're my beautifully pregnant wife of twenty-five and a half years." She dips her face and he takes the opportunity to kiss her head. "You'll enjoy it I promise. Now, let's go upstairs and change."

He lets her take a shower while he changes. He rifles through his wardrobe to find the fancy grey suit with the blue silk interior that was definitely required for tonight's viewing. He lays it gently on the bed, he needed a shower after all. He'd usually pick up his book at this moment and lie on the bed for a long read while he waited but his mind is too restless to think of anything but the conversation Cora was still putting off.

Robert didn't like to blame Peter, he couldn't in fact, not after Dr Pelham had very much confirmed that if Cora had fallen the baby would have been lost. It meant quite simply that Cora had kept things from him about the Simon situation, which wasn't actually what had bothered him, he'd done the same. But he was bothered by the way in which Cora had reacted since, something about all of it was bothering him. Added to that there was the fact she had clearly roped in Sybil's assistance (to video and call the police) rather than her own husband. He would have thought when physical obstruction by Simon was likely she would have asked him to be on guard.

She emerges from the bathroom towel wrapped awkwardly around her disrupting his confused thoughts.

"That was quick."

"I don't know what I'm wearing, or what time I need to be ready, so I went fast." She struggles keeping the towel around her as she opens her wardrobe. He rests his hands on her shoulders and removes the towel.

"You don't need to cover up, it's only me." He traces his thumbs beneath her breasts from behind, careful not to press too hard, she'd been complaining about how tender they were.

"Which is all the more reason. We are still on strict rules of abstinence and clearly you can't behave." He drops his hands and kisses her shoulder. It was true he wasn't exactly finding the doctors orders easy to follow through with. Most men his age would think him nuts he's sure to still desire his wife as much as he had at the beginning. These things were meant to fade with age and children. Other men he knew were no doubt harbouring such thoughts but unlike himself didn't have a wife quite so willing to indulge them.

"As for the matter of a dress it's that one in the white dress cover." He had known she'd be fussing about clothes, all the maternity items she had were not really suitable for going out, so he had taken the matter into his own hands. "I'll be out if you need help putting it on in a moment or two."

He leaves her to sort herself out and disappears into the bathroom. His nose immediately flares with the strawberry of Cora's shampoo and his forehead prickles with warmth from the steam. The hot water cascades over his shoulders and face and he can't help but let memories flood over him of that afternoon on the ship in the ensuite shower. It was all so surreal to realise Cora has been pregnant then.

He turns off the water and jumps out grabbing the towel from the heated rail and pushing it through his hair. He hears the blasts of the hairdryer through the door proving that Cora was clearly not dressed yet, not that he was expecting her to be, if anything he wanted a little of this time to try and discuss the worries he had over Simon.

She stands with her brush in hand as he enters the room moving away from her dresser and the hairdryer to collect her dress from the bed. She's put on some underwear in his absence but that's not what makes him smile so broadly, it's the way her eyes rake over him and her fingers fumble getting the dress from the hanger.

"Is something the matter?" She playfully swots his arm at his teasing.

"Put some clothes on Robert."

"And why might that be necessary?" He wraps himself around her again which only serves to make her blush profusely.

"You know why." She tilts her face anyway and allows him to kiss her cheek.

"I adore the fact that me, your grey haired husband can still make you blush."

"It's the hormones." She pulls the red dress down over herself and Robert is pleased to find it falls nicely over her baby bump.

"And yet you can't deny the fact that when we actually conceived the baby no hormones were involved." She rolls her eyes as she turns around so he can zip up her dress. He lets his fingers linger between her shoulder blades, passing the pads of his fingers gently over her soft skin. He really had missed the endeavours they had embraced on holiday and he would be more than pleased when baby Edward was safely in the world and Cora had recovered from the ordeal of birth.

He steps away from her to change and she returns to her seat at the dresser, carefully applying some make up to her eyelids.

"I hope you don't think that the sex we had on holiday was just hormones from the early months of pregnancy." Her gaze watches him from the mirror and he shakes his head, buttoning up his shirt as he wanders back to her.

"Cora sweetie. I was teasing. I know how much everything means to you." She nods briskly, returning to her task. "You like the dress?"

"Of course. It fits very nicely and is soft against my rather tender skin." Her tone is so delicate a monotone, he grumbles softly.

"Cora, seriously. I know that the sex wasn't just a chemically induced thing. I love you and I have been under the impression you feel the same. Besides I remember when you were pregnant with the girls and I was often told to keep my hands off, was I not?" She smiles sheepishly as he pulls his smart trousers and jacket on. She starts flicking with her mascara wand and Robert knows that now, if any, is his chance. There's at least half an hour before Timothy Branson was set to arrive to drive them to the theatre. "Cora, we have a little time before we go...perhaps-"

"You're right." She swivels on the stool, massaging her hands as she rubs the cream between her fingers. "I first found out he was coming on the holiday. Peter left me a note." Robert feels his mouth drop open but he closes it when her eyes drop, hands shaking in her lap. "I know I should have said, I just..."

"It's alright, and following that was the talk at Mary's wedding?" He gently takes her hands and leads her to the bed where she props herself against his chest, pulling his hands to massage with hers over their baby.

"Yes. Where I found out Simon had-" He'd known this bit already knew, not the letter, but this bit. It was what happened to Cora following this that he was still at a blank on. "And then when we were home he called and explained about the video footage he would use to blackmail me." Robert takes another deep gulp and buries his face in her hair. He had thought Peter had only told him about that. He breathes deeply hoping she will continue, but she doesn't.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing I didn't already know."

"You don't have to lie to me Cora. I know which piece of footage it was."

"And I'm not silly Robert." She shuffles slightly so she can see him. "You wouldn't have nightmares over a woman who had merely kissed your cheek a few times."

"It was only a kiss Cora we nev-"

"You wouldn't be sat here if that was the case. Firstly because you'd never be able to face me and secondly because I would have walked out." He doesn't laugh, despite the fact she wants him to. He just buries his face deeper in her hair, kissing her softly. "Anyway, Peter told me he had told you the same information and I knew you wouldn't mention it because of what the video showed. He also told me something you didn't know. He gave me the number of Miss Reynolds, a lady in America dying of cancer who was pressing rape charges. It was due to her story that people had found the video of me. I don't honesty know why I didn't tell you, I suppose I wanted to cope on my own. I had to prove myself to him Robert. I couldn't face being the Countess cowering behind my husband. I'm not that woman any more Robert."

"Of course not, but I would have liked to have been hiding behind the hedge watching you at your request rather than as my own decision."

"I agree that may have been a mistake but I kind of knew I suppose that you were there. I did after all know that Peter had told you everything. What I'm confused about is why you didn't speak to me about what I was planning. Were you going to try and intercept Simon before he met me or something?"

"That is what I wanted. But Peter never disclosed the meeting you had agreed with Simon. I was told it was later, just by a few minutes. Eleven o'clock not the true ten fifty five."

"Peter knew what he was doing."

"I didn't think that when he was putting you and our baby at risk. I'm surprised you didn't hear us squabbling behind the hedge. But in hindsight you're probably right. If and when Simon has served whatever sentence he will be given he's more likely to leave us alone now he's met the terrifying woman that is my wife." She laughs softly, her hand moving his to the place where little Edward is kicking.

"It hasn't changed anything between us has it Robert, knowing what he did?"

"Of course not. You're still my Cora. Always. Now, it's time we finish getting ready." He helps her to sit up and she immediately starts digging in her wardrobe for some shoes while he straightens his tie.

The car journey to the theatre is filled with Cora shuffling uncomfortably in the back seat of the car and trying to get him to admit their location.

It was a special showing of Tennessee Williams' 'A Streetcar Named Desire' which was featuring Gillian Anderson as Blanche DuBois.* Gillian was rather a favourite actress of Cora's which is why Robert had booked tickets.

They enter through the VIP entrance, which had been a specific request of Robert's when he'd booked, he wanted it all to be a complete surprise until the curtain came up. Cora had talked about the show for months when she'd heard Gillian was to be in it and back in February he had purchased the tickets without telling her. When Cora had asked about going for the hundredth time he had lied about their purchase. Unfortunately back in February that kind of comment was one that caused her to kick off about how he never bothered with her any more, that he took no notice. He'd managed, somehow, despite his anger to never blurt that he had purchased the tickets. Watching her face now though, he was so pleased, she was looking around the balcony box with eager anticipation, her feet tapping softly.

A member of staff enters with the bowl of chocolate and fruit he had requested, and the large jug of juice. She leans against him as he pours, pressing her lips to his neck as she mumbles her promise of a special kiss if he might tell her what it is they are seeing.

The lights dim as Robert takes one of the red roses from the nearby vase and presses it beneath her nose. She takes it from his grasp, pressing her nose gently against his and kissing him.

Robert watches only her as the first few lines of the play begin before them and when Gillian's character Blanche appears on the stage as a vision in white he hears Cora's soft gasp easily enough. Her eyes meet his for half a second before she averts her eyes back to the performance. The glance is long enough for him to see the dampness and the love in them and even if he had missed the look she is set on showing her thanks to him when her hand slips effortlessly onto his thigh, rubbing softly.

* * *

" _Robert!" Cora's tone is exasperated but loving as her eyes fall open. Her eyelashes still flutter a couple of times as her eyes try to find his face. But she can't see him, seeing as he's nuzzled his nose against her neck. He nips her ear lobe again, hoping she might growl his name again. Sure enough she twists her head away to try and stop it. "Robert I want-"  
_

 _Her sentence drops short and Robert knows, rather than hopes (as most men would) that it's because she is rather affected by his hands. He's pushed her silk nightdress to her waist and now, ignoring her pleas of annoyance, he wiggles his fingers under the elastic of her panties and gently pushes them from her waist. His fingers run over the marble smooth skin he exposes and when she jolts into his hand as he trials a path between her bum cheeks he can't help but drop a kiss to her shoulder._

 _He takes his other hand up beneath her nightdress, tickling over her spine in slow strokes, his lips tasting her neck. She responds by tipping her head back towards him, leaving his nose and mouth buried against her pulsing throat._

 _When she shifts her hips as if to turn and face him he takes his hand to her hip, keeping her steadily facing away from him. He traces that hand along her hip bone to her stomach where he proceeds to shuffle her nightdress higher, curving his thumb in the soft dip beneath the swell of her breast._

 _She turns her face into his again, and her lips dance softly on his brow. She seems quite content to cause her own mischief when she takes his hand from beneath her breast to the front of her abdomen._

 _He teases her curls for a while, dipping one of his fingers lower on occasion which causes her to jolt her hips backwards into his own. In the minute or so that he presses and swirls his other hand wanders between her thighs._

 _"Robert...please..." Her accent is more profound when she is like this and he smiles against her back, the stubble from last nights missed shave grazing her shoulder blade._

 _He shifts the hand he's rested between her thighs up a little and she parts her legs instinctively, shifting slightly onto her back. He switches his hands, placing the one that has been taunting her thighs back on her spine, the other moving effortlessly to the place she was already bubbling and in doing so adjusts himself to straddle her back._

 _She moves fully onto her front when he dips up to his knuckle gently inside her. He reaches for his pillow which he eases beneath her hips which she willingly agrees to with a grunt as his finger slips deeper in the process._

 _He finds the familiar pattern easily enough, twisting his finger over the bud of her sex, feeling her tighten and flex as her body naturally guided him to the places she wants._

 _He shifts his body over her so he can dip his mouth along her neck. He suckles at the racing pulse in her neck and murmurs her name repeatedly in her ear as she tightens deftly around his finger his own name erupting from her mouth._

 _He allows her to recover for a minute, her breathing evening out slightly before he returns his attentions no her neck and shoulder, pinching the skin hard enough to make her sigh but not to leave a mark._

 _"That was to make up for how gorgeous you were last night." His teeth nibble at her earlobe._

 _"I didn't do anything you didn't deserve." He would tend to disagree, she'd pleasured_ _him_ _naughtily with her fingers and then her mouth and Robert had fallen asleep feeling utterly carnal because he'd allowed and enjoyed such a blatant display of male dominance. "You're my husband of one year Robert. That was what last night was about." He shakes his head against the back of her neck. His nose brushing over the soft new hair that was growing at the base._

 _"No. That's what today is about. Today is our true anniversary after all." She grumbles lazily which hides a soft smile he spies as she lifts her head up, balancing herself on her forearms, her breasts no longer on the bed._

 _She pushes her hips up into his arousal causing him to fully focus his attention on what they had been doing. He eases her hips still higher, placing another pillow beneath her so she doesn't have to support herself._ _His tip touches gently to her cooler skin at the base of her spine. Her skin wasn't cool to the touch of his hand but to his burning need it felt so very cold, crisp and icy._

 _He grunts against her shoulder causing her to chuckle._

 _"Take me Robert. For your own sake if not for mine." Her voice is slow and soft and he's positioning himself suitably behind her before she's finished._

 _They had always fitted perfectly, his large size filled her with total comfort despite her slender size. Cora was tall, but tiny in every other way and that he knew was why it worked. Why it felt so deliciously appealing. He gives her the long thrusts of his whole length she so enjoys first but he soon finds the pace too slow for his fiery desire. He shifts his weight back over her, plabimf her hands either side of her shoulders which adds the depth to his thrust that would allow her release and sure enough it brings her easily with him._

 _He takes a firm hold of her waist as he falls back onto his back beside her. He marvels in the after waves of her sex as she lies spooned against him, both of them recovering._

 _He keeps his arms wrapped total around her body and she rests her own fingers on top, drawing soft circles on his arm. She turns her head a little to press her lips to his chin which is when she smiles._

 _"I like your stubble." He kisses her temple rubbing his chin over her cheek._

 _"I'm pleased you do because there's not much chance of me getting out of bed and shaving it off until much later."_

 _"Oh, why is that?"_

 _"Because it's my wedding anniversary and I have presents and my love to share with my wonderful wife." He untangles himself from her to reach inside his bedside drawer. She sits slowly up, wiping sleep from her eyes. He places the present that had taken him some hours on his one afternoon off this week to wrap in her lap. It turned out finding wrapping paper that he was happy with and a suitable ribbon was harder than he'd thought. He'd eventually found an artistic floral design which included roses. The ribbon had been simple, a texture of velvet in baby pink. It hadn't taken so long to wrap, the item he'd purchased did already come in a neat box._

 _"I have something for you too." She jumps from the bed, grabbing her nightdress and pulling it easily over her head. The parcel he gets given is far more intricately wrapped then the one he has just handed over and thinking again on the contents he panics that he'd not been generous enough. The outermost paper is a clear thin plastic, like acetate but with a design of polka dots in two shades of blue on it. Cora has pulled this into a cluster at the top so it looks like a sack with a thin navy ribbon tying it shut. Beneath that he can see the present is wrapped in a pale blue paper and it's true paper, more expensive than the glossy sheets available in rolls or sheets._

 _She clambers back onto the bed and takes her parcel again, gently tipping it from side to side beside her ear. Then she apparently changes her mind and places the package back on the bed next to the one she had given him._

 _"You haven't kissed me yet." He caresses his hand at her waist, curling it over the silk fabric. She tilts her lips to him eagerly but Robert makes her wait, pressing his forehead to hers and then smoothing his nose over hers. Her top lip brushes his bottom one once and he feels the touch of her tongue as she tilts her face higher._

 _He doesn't need to find the seam of her lips, they are parted for him already. He doesn't try to take control of her, just allows his tongue to mingle gently with her own, lapping up the taste that was Cora's._

 _He doubted this would ever get old, holding her, kissing her and then feeling her soft decisive sign against his mouth when she pulls softly away._

 _"I think you should open your gift first," she presses it into his hands, "seeing as I was the one that got gifts on Valentine's Day when you had promised you were getting only a card." It was true that Cora had frowned rather a lot on Friday after arriving at the office only to have two packages waiting for her and a bunch of white roses delivered at nine o'clock sharp. She had grumbled all day about how bad she had felt having only purchased a 'small card.'_

 _"Stop fussing about that. I saw the jewels and I knew they were perfect for you. I couldn't resist. And the dinner out had been planned for weeks." She shakes her head seemingly not seeing the point in arguing any more._

 _He pulls at the tiny ribbon as she perches herself on her haunches and decides to position herself behind him, hanging her arms over his shoulders and massaging his neck. He kisses her wrists at the moment when they dance just below his chin. The polka dot paper falls easily away and the sturdy blue paper reveals the navy box a second later._

 _He opens the lid and nestled in the velvet are a pair of cuff links, each with a cricket bat and ball on them. He laughs._

 _"You like them?" He fingers the perfect shade of red enamel that they used on the cricket ball and the delicate white line they'd etched on to mark the seams._

 _"They will be well worn my dear, I'm sure of that already." She kisses his cheek and he tugs her wrist to bring her back around to sit beside him._

 _He watches wth eager anticipation as she slides her finger beneath the wrapping paper. She takes the ribbon and takes a moment reassembling it into a bow—she kept ribbon and paper for the scrapbook she was assembling of their holidays._

 _She eventually gets to the red box and she shakes gently. He knows she confused when she hears no sound, no bracelet or necklace moving within. He had thought the depth of the box would have thrown her off that idea but seemingly not. He snakes his arm around her hips, burying his lips behind her ear. His nostrils twitch at the waft of left over perfume on her neck but the gentle sigh that fills the air distracts him from a possible sneeze._

 _On first look the single red rose made entirely of paper really did, from a distance look real. He didn't know how on earth the gentleman had made such a thing and he certainly dare not think about how long it had taken him. It was an origami miracle. The vibrant green stem even had the tiny point a third of the way down to create the natural thorn look. The rose head was layered just as a natural rose is, petal after petal curving into the bud at the centre._

 _"Oh it's beautiful Robert. We'll have to put it in our room downstairs with all our photos."_

 _"You really like it?" She nods enthusiastically, leaning against him as she twists the stem between her fingers. "I wanted something you'd always remember was from today. And, paper is the first anniversary gift."_

 _"Is that going to be a theme now. Am I to expect cotton next year?"_

 _"Maybe." It had been his intention but he also didn't want to be too soppy and would like to treat her to things she truly asked for as well, and lots of holidays. Travelling with Cora was one of the pleasantest things he'd ever done._

 _"Well if so it's a beautiful idea."_

 _"I'm pleased you think so." He gently nudges her to sit between his curled up legs. "Now, how about a bath?"_

 _"Are you accusing me of being dirty?"_

 _"Unless you mean dirty minded then no." She swats at his chest._

 _"Robert Crawley you are incorrigible." But she's turned her face to him and reaches up to kiss his lips briefly. "But I would like that bath. And how about some Ben and Jerry's as a pre-breakfast treat?" She raises her eyebrows in question—knowing how much such a comment will annoy him when he likes his proper breakfasts._

 _"Or I could go down and do us a bacon butty each while you fill the tub." He watches as a broad smile spreads over her face and he knows he's sold his deal when she turns around and kisses him soundly, warmly nudging his thigh._

 _He returns upstairs not long after with two butty's oozing with sizzling bacon and ketchup to find her lying back peacefully in the tub in a pure image of beauty. He climbs in quickly beside her and the moment they've both finished eating he finds himself being tempted with her kisses. This was clearly the best way to spend their first anniversary, celebrating all that they meant to each other._

* * *

* Gillian Anderson is a favourite actress of mine and I couldn't help mentioning her here, 'Streetcar' is currently on in New York, St Ann's Warehouse I believe, but was in London last autumn.

I'd like to apologise to the handful of you who I haven't thanked for your review. The review was noted and read but I'm up to my neck in stuff at the minute and will be for the next six weeks. I'm dedicating my time to the actual writing so you guys actually get rewarded with a chapter! But I am as ever extremely grateful nonetheless.

Hope you enjoyed! I'd love a review!


	18. Chapter 18

AN: Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews. I have read them all but it's going to be really hard to reply to any in the next few weeks. Once the end of June is in sight you might all get some replies again! Life is just very important at the moment. But do keep leaving them, they keep me writing. Enjoy!

* * *

Phyllis had settled into her job expertly and seeing as he is more relaxed with life now—Cora is a month away from her due date and Clarkson had said that may problems now would be manageable although still not ideal and Simon is finally locked in American jail—he felt that now if any was the time to get to know Phyllis better. She had been wondering for weeks, often out loud when his original questions about her life that had started a few weeks ago would redirect themselves. Today he felt was the day; Phyllis had him well ahead on his work and he had no meetings for the rest of the afternoon.

"So Phyllis-"

"How did I know this was coming?" He smirks as she swivels on her chair, rashly organising papers on her desk. "How about I get you started?" She finds a sealed envelope that was clearly for him and brings it through. "I have a brother. I grew up on the outskirts of London, Enfield, to be exact and I still live there. I've had two previous jobs and only two previous serious boyfriends. My current boyfriend is called Joe. I have no children." Robert laughs.

"Guess how long it took me to get that information out of Cora?"

"A lot longer. Which, if I know anything of men, is what attracted you. The Unknown." He finds himself smiling again, Phyllis really was a wise woman, not that she shouldn't be, she was a few years younger than he and Cora but had obviously seen as much of the world as they have.

"So, this boyfriend..." She's back in her small office and Robert has to raise his voice slightly so she can hear him.

"Joe. Yes?"

"What does he do?"

"He's a primary school teacher, at a private school where he teaches history." Robert couldn't hide the fact he's impressed which Phyllis senses as she turns to raise her eyebrows at him.

"You look shocked? You're surprised a secretary can claim such a catch."

"Goodness no! I envy him. I envy any man who can teach young children and can retain all that information. In comparison what I do is easy, just being friendly to a bunch of fat, rich men." Phyllis laughs, but nicely, her head shaking from side to side.

"You know as well as I that being friendly with those people and organising your business, retaining your staff is just, if not more difficult, than teaching. Grown men are three times as silly as children." They get disrupted by the arrival of yet another pile of post. Not that it was really post, it was Bates sending up a load of things he wasn't sure he could manage without reference from the boss. Besides their conversation had reached a pregnant pause, neither of them quite sure who was to continue. Robert didn't want to pry too deep, but he also liked to have a fair idea of his secretary's life, all his staff in fact, how silly would he look otherwise?

"How long have you and Joe been together?" Phyllis hands him the pile of relevant material taking most of it back as he turns it her way as 'rubbish' and 'just a compliments letter for that one.' She finally answers while he sorts the last few items and he doesn't push her, she had come across as a delicate, secretive person and he didn't want to offend her.

"Over a year." Robert almost misses her reply as he reads the last letter in the pile in closer detail before laying it in front of him, it was certainly one worth pondering.

As for Phyllis' remark the blush that bruises her cream cheeks is more telling than the words and Robert finds himself leaning back in his expensive leather chair.

"Serious then?"

"I would say so. I hope it's not to forward to say, that I very much hope so." Robert laughs a comment of Cora's coming to mind.

"Cora would say that definitely means don't let him anywhere near me otherwise I'll say something I shouldn't."

"I wasn't planning it." She walks back to her desk and in seconds he hears the printer pounding after the flick of her fingers over a few keys.

Ten minutes pass in relative silence Robert perfectly happy with the small progress he's made regarding Phyllis. He knew it was somewhat nosy but he had found that with Elsie, Carson, Bates and Anna that knowing his staff made for a stronger tie and a better working atmosphere. Many of the people he worked with had become family friends and in a family run establishment that was key to keeping stories that needed to stay from the papers out and creating a working office in which he was respected.

"There's a short pile of letters that need your signature." He hadn't heard her come back through, too absorbed in the developments Gary seemed to think he could make with a business that wasn't his own. Clearly his new wife was more expensive than he'd anticipated. It was odd for Gary to write to the establishment rather than demand a visit but the fact the letter was aimed at Bates made it clear that he knew damn well what he was asking was ridiculous and he was trying to sneak it under Robert's nose.

"Sir, if you don't mind I wanted to ask something."

"Of course go ahead. The reply to this letter needs some thought anyway."

"You're very welcome to sack me for being nosy but..." Her hands twist awkwardly by the desk and he gestures for her to sit, it wasn't like Phyllis to not just come out with it. "I read an article online from an American paper. Mrs Crawley was mentioned. The article was about a man who was being imprisoned for...for rape and it said your wife had provided a witness statement." Robert is most overcome by the way she stutters over the sentences, the pure terror that seemed to seep across her face than he is by the fact she'd been reading press articles about him and Cora. Phyllis had been well aware that tensions had been mounting between the two of them and an impending situation was approaching around the corner.

"That is correct. Do you remember your first day and the man that stormed in?"

"Yes." She finally looks him in the eye.

"He was an ex-friend of the man you read about. He warned us the man was coming back to ask a favour of Cora. He-"

"I don't need the particulars Sir. Just...tell your wife there's a charity I raise a lot of money for. It helps victims of that crime. I do talks and visit schools, it was how I met Joe..." Robert closes his eyes, his teeth dig into the side of his cheek and he swallows. Hard. His eyes water at the force, at the sticky dryness in his throat. He bites his lips, staring hard at the desk his eyes crumpling up. He'd never felt more anger in his life than he'd felt in the last few months towards humanity.

"I'm sorry Phyllis. I don't know what else to say. I'm so sorry you had to suffer that."

"It was a long time ago. But I've used the experience in a positive way. Spreading awareness. I was determined, after some years of suffering, not to be a victim. Your wife would be an excellent recruit for the team. I hate to say that her name, your name, would help. It shouldn't be like that but it is." Oh of course it is. Everything important, everything worth fighting for needed a Prince, celebrity or a man like himself to give it influence, power. And in this case Robert was above willing to help. Cora had said she was contemplating some part time work and some more charities when Edward was bigger and this, this seemed like an excellent place to start. She could even attend some events at local schools in the next year, he was perfectly willing to have Edward in the office with him.

"Of course. Of course. But I think Cora would be happy to do it based solely on what you just said. It's what she said to me—she doesn't want to be his victim. When the baby is born the two of you should arrange a lunch or something. I won't tell you her story, Cora will want to tell it herself and in all honesty I've never heard it all." Phyllis nods sadly, flicking away some droplets of water from her eyes. It is evident to him that Phyllis' life had been one much more altered by her experience than Cora's. For such a lovely, sensible woman, her small list of boyfriends for her age suddenly made sense and Robert finds himself curling up and hurling the letter Gary had sent him in frustration as she slips outside for some air.

Robert was perfectly aware that Cora had been lucky that she'd forgotten and that Phyllis had been fortunate with her forceful spirit that had kept her going. There were many women that suffered, some women that even ended up with the children of these men. He finds himself standing up and walking away from his desk, going to stand by the window.

He looks out upon the skyline of London. Big Ben a stones throw down the river. Boats causing horses to foam in the Thames' current. Tourists scuttling along below, pointing at this and that. Laughing. Smiling at life. At what fortune had given them.

But then there was the homeless man sitting half alive on the corner. A sleeping dog curled by his side. He was physically weak, but his spirit was there, Robert knew it was—he was jollier than half the men in his own office, waving him good morning every day.

These victims like Phyllis was talking about they were in the majority physically fine, a few bumps and scrapes maybe, but that was all. But they did have a broken spirit. A crumpled spirit that was near impossible to come back from.

The phone pierces through his daydream before his eyes have entirely dried. He stares at it, the shrill pitch seemingly getting louder the longer he watches it. He almost doesn't go and pick it up. He very almost decides to leave it but then a nagging feeling tells him it could be Cora in trouble or Rosamund telling him the baby was coming and he launches for it in a ridiculous lunge.

He gets it just before the last ring to meet with a gruff male voice. Gary. Drunk Gary. Charming.

"Agh, Robert. You picked up, I was thinking for a second that wife of yours had popped by to try and harness her hormonal appetite." Not that drunk Gary meant he was any less offensive. He was more of anything.

"What do you want Gary?"

"Don't get angry with me. I can hear you virtually spitting at the phone. Did you get my letter?"

"I did. Although I couldn't work out a number of things. The first of which why you were writing rather than bursting into my office as is your usual custom." He hears a cackle from the other end of he phone.

"Oh, you have clearly forgotten the first years of married life. Why would I bother coming to see your old face when I've got my gorgeous wife pampering to my every need at home?" Robert decided not to comment, he'd been quickly losing his tether with Gary recently. The only reason their contracts hadn't been squashed to the ground was that he'd known Gary all his working life and that tradition somehow kept him in place. "She's splendid I'll have you know. Anything, anywhere, anytime. She is so soft and-" Robert drops the phone back on the hook before he says something he will regret. The phone rings again, unsurprisingly and he snatches it up.

"Gary. Please, turn your attentions back to your wife before I break every single deal you and I have."

"You can't do that, you wouldn't do that." Robert doesn't even hear an ounce of worry in his voice, which only serves to make Robert angrier. He was smug in his position as business man and investor was Gary, and Robert was getting sick of it.

"I would. You know I would. I hate your attitude. You've known that for years. You're a fine business man with a brain but you waste that sometimes."

"Really, you think so when I'm the only with a delicious bird sat in my lap and you're stuck at the office with your wife so throughly pregnant she can't even see where she's walking. I mean come on Robert, is the baby even yours? Surely you've found someone better than-" He kicks the desk.

"You know what Gary. Forget it. I'm done with you. I'm done with you thinking you know best, I'm done with you offending my wife. A letter explaining the cessation of out contract will be in your post tomorrow." The phone slips more easily back into place this time, his mind was more content with the decision he had just made after all. He couldn't face those morals. Before he'd brushed them away as jealousy because he'd had a soft spot for Cora at one time. But not any more, now they were just plain disgusting.

The shriek of the phone only serves to fuel his anger all over again, he snatches it up.

"I thought I made it clear our business was at an end Gary! Please stop calling and turn your attentions to your bird of a wife."

"Good afternoon to you to Robert." He flops down into his chair with a laugh as she giggles at the end of the phone. "Busy day?"

"Yes, an emotionally heavy day." He takes the phone over to the window, wheeling his chair with him and he leans back, staring upwards towards the sky. Drinking in the swirls of the clouds and the blues of the sky. "Cora, describe to me what you are doing at this exact moment, I want to be able to picture you."

"I'm rocking a sleeping Marigold while Edith has a snooze. Roz has just presented me with a plate of food. She says it's an afternoon snack. I'm in the lounge and I've got some Adele on quietly in the background."

"Not Sadie and the Hotheads then?" Her music choice had surprised him, seeing as he didn't know a day that had passed in the last week that hadn't involved Elizabeth McGovern's band. Even Robert had to admit the country style appealed to him, despite much of its American flavour, although as Roz had pointed out maybe that was why he liked it more than he'd expected.

"We've listened to that already." He laughs. Unsurprised.

"What are you wearing?"

"One of these dreadful cotton maternity things. I've taken the leggings off though I was too hot." He smiles to himself, throwing his legs out straight in front of him, make full use of the comfortable chair to stretch. "Edith wondered if we might have a big family dinner this week? How does Thursday suit?"

"Fine. Sounds like a lovely idea. We haven't truly all got together since Mary and Matthew returned." Phyllis appears by his side holding a steaming mug of coffee, he takes it with a nod. Briefly dipping the phone from her ear as he speaks to her.

"You should be very proud of what you're doing. You're a true credit to society." She nods with a smile, tilting her head to one side as if she's unsure about that statement.

"Robert?"

"Sorry Cora. Phyllis came in with my coffee and I had to switch hands."

"You were saying something too."

"A thank you and she was checking a meeting I've got for tomorrow." He wasn't quite ready, nor was it his place, to tell Cora Phyllis' story.

"What time will you be home? Roz is asking, she's thinking about what she's cooking." Robert was truly amazed at how much attention Edith and Cora were receiving from his sister, she'd moved into the spare room—one of the spare rooms—and seemed to be cooking every night. Her other duties included nursing Marigold and helping Cora generally move about the house without falling.

"In the next hour. If we could have spaghetti bolognese that would be nice, if Roz is taking orders that is." Cora chuckles.

"She's just given a thumbs up so I think she heard you." He calls a thanks to Rosamund before ending the call and returning to the slog that was his work. The letter for Gary needed doing and no doubt a statement would need to be ready for the press based on Gary's obscene mood.

He clears it all quickly enough and grabbing his coat ten minutes after five he heads for the door. Home and Cora sounded like the best thing ever.

* * *

She twitches away from the the spasm that runs up her spine. She ignores the harsh complaint of her body as the fabric slips over her. She couldn't let those twinges show, not with Robert watching. She doesn't have to look across to the bed to where he is sat to know he is watching her intently, his eyes even failing to blink with the importance of the task.

"Can you do me up?" He slips from the bed, abandoning the magazine he had been trying to hide his eager eyes behind.

The zip tugs up into place easily enough but her vertebrae complain again. She tilts her head forwards, chin resting near the base of her neck, and shifts her hair forward only as an excuse to cover the pinching of her face as she settles into the chair.

Any other day she would admit she felt extremely unwell and get into the bed, burying herself beneath the covers. Robert would sit with her, reading, laughing, massaging and no doubt he or Rosamund would appear with a tray of food and make sure she ate. But that was not possible for tonight. Tonight was a family dinner. Everyone.

Cora might well feel, and look, fit to burst but she truly had to pretend the thirty-three week bump wasn't planning on budging any time in the next few hours. Indeed Clarkson had felt on his assessment that afternoon that a planned operation in the next ten days would do the trick (he was going to book one in the next two days). He explained that he couldn't let her go to full term with her pregnancy, the onset of natural labour was fatal as the contraction and widening of the cervix—however small—would cause instant bleeding as her placenta was lying right over it, the most dangerous position it could be in. Therefore, to stay safe of the likely time of the onset of labour was to have the operation within, if not before, the next ten days had elapsed. Clarkson wanted her, ideally as far into her thirty second week as possible—it would greatly increase the health of the baby—but he said the risk of injury to her and the baby was higher and more severe (if he let the pregnancy continue too long) than the slight health implications of a premature baby under the care of an experienced mother and nurses.

"Cora darling, are you putting your hair up?"

"Yes. Yes." She hadn't realised she'd paused, brush in mid air, her thoughts miles from her reflection but instead thinking and pondering upon the gentle kicks of her baby. They fell into a rhythm at this hour, one that she felt increasingly soothing.

She whips her hair quickly up, keeping her mind for more focused on the pushes of Edward's feet, they were a good distraction from the aching in her back.

Robert comes over to the stool to help her up, as she applies a last layer of lipstick and snaps her lips together. It had been his habit, helping her to and from every seat and up and down the stairs but tonight she really did feel she wanted to forgo it, to sort herself in her own time without his prying eyes. She knew se was being a bad 'patient,' that truly he was only trying to help her, keep her safe, but somehow it didn't feel that way, it felt like spying.

She knows she gives herself away because his hold on her tightens once she's fully standing, rather than easing itself. The other reason she knows is because she had almost let go of his hand as a single sharp pain had pressed at her lower abdomen which means she most certainly must have shown a reaction evident to him on her face.

"Cora? Are you okay?"

"Fine. My back is just stiff." He retains his hold on her for a while longer, looking anxiously at her face.

"Cora. Nobody will mind if you take a few hours rest and join us later."

"I'm fine." She knows she's far too harsh. Her words resonating from gritted teeth.

"Would you like me to massage your back a little? We have time." She shakes her head, but really she wouldn't mind. His hands were always so firm and dug easily into the knots that had a habit of forming in her muscles. But the pain tonight wasn't nearly as bad as it had been previously, it was the strange bubbling sensation that went with Edward's kicks that was odd. Thankfully the sharp stabbing in her abdomen was no longer and finding she can walk with no discomfort at all she relaxes.

"I don't mean to snap. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I can forgive you for that." His lips are somewhere near her ear but it's his hand that she takes comfort in. Despite her refusal of his massage his hand circles firmly on her back right in the spot that was most knotted.

He supports her easily down the stairs and Rosamund comes rushing over. She had been truly an angel and had cooked, again, this time for eight. She'd forced them to have roast yesterday—a big one—so that she could make two huge chicken pies with the left overs. As she leans over and kisses Robert, complaining that he hasn't visited the chef when he'd returned from work, all Cora can smell is the pastry that was buried in Rosamund's fingers and the rich seasonings she had used.

"It smells beautiful Roz, and you've been a dear to do this."

"Oh it's nothing. We couldn't have little Marigold in a restaurant and there was no way I was letting you cook Cora. I've secreting been enjoying all this I've been doing here. Now, Mary and Matthew will be here any minute but Edith needs a hand up the stairs with the things for Marigold." That last bit was aimed clearly at Robert and he disappears down the staircase that was tucked away in the corner. "I've made you a drink and the cushions on the settee have been plumped just for you."

And just like that Cora finds herself alone in the hallway. She stares at the black and white tiled floor, peering over her protruding size to twist her toe along the grooves. Tracing her toe in a circle she finds herself facing the living room and anything to stop the grumbling of her stomach she pads in that direction hoping the aroma of cooking would drift from her nose.

The room had been aired that much was obvious, and dusted. The scarlet cushions were arranged neatly on both settees—unlike usually—and the side table was laid with some fancy little canapés. Cora sits looking at them for less than a minute before she's chosen the one with the prawn and crab filling in he simple pastry casing. There was another with a cracker and cheese that she had almost taken instead but the thought of the sea foods texture had won her over.

"Aunt Roz said she thought you'd have found the canapés." Sybil leans over and gives her a kiss, placing a new tray of snacks on the table. She was wearing the trouser suit she'd sported on the cruise and Cora was more than pleased to see it still fitted, a lot of fuss had gone into its purchase. "Sorry I missed you when I got in from school. Dad said you were in the shower when I poked my head around the door and I was in rather a rush to change." She and Sybil had gotten into a habit over the years of sitting down for a ten minute chat when Sybil arrived home from school and sharing their gossip of the day. To think in possibly just over a week Sybil would be coming home to her little brother was quite unbelievable.

"It doesn't matter. You can tell me about school now." She adjusts the cushion behind her back and lowers herself further into the dip of the sofa. Sybil swings her legs up and leans forward, pressing her hands to were Edward was kicking—a favourite habit of hers.

Cora takes the opportunity to smile at the perfect curves Sybil had managed to mirror with her eyeliner on both eyes. Sybil had been discussing this new, thick and bold style for weeks and Cora had indulged in a felt tip liner for both of them at the weekend, which much to Robert's dismay, they had then spent three hours practicing using in Sybil's bedroom. But to see that Sybil clearly seemed to have mastered it when she'd been struggling was very nice. It seemed to fill Cora with a silly sense of pride. It was make-up for goodness sake she shouldn't be encouraging Sybil too much but equally she was almost fifteen, now was the time to learn how to apply it nicely.

"Do you think we might have room for one extra at my birthday dinner?" Cora narrows her eyes, watching as her youngest daughter twiddles with the beading on her dress.

"Why?"

"Tom asked me out today and–"

"Tom?" Cora knows she doesn't contain her shock very well, Sybil blushes profusely and looks down. Cora finds herself reaching for the cheese topped cracker and taking a handful of crisps. "Tom Branson?"

"Yes." Cora tries to picture them in her head, goodness the two of them had almost grown up together, it wasn't too difficult to visualise the young hazelnut brown hair and the already broad shoulders.

"But isn't he a year ahead of you at school?"

"Yes. He is taking his exams this year." Cora closes her eyes in mock disbelieve, she couldn't take this in. Her baby girl. Her baby girl with a boyfriend. An older boyfriend. It all seemed absurd. Edward seems to agree, punching her three times.

"I don't see why he can't come. But don't tell Dad yet. He will lock you in the house every night or something."

"So you don't disapprove?"

"No. Not exactly. But–" She's cut off by Sybil's squeal and hug that almost push her too far back into the settee. Before she can finish what she was hoping to say Edith and Robert struggle into the room wth various baby paraphernalia and tiny little Marigold twitching in her blanket.

Edith kisses them all in welcome and immediately lets Cora take Marigold. She barely notices Robert slipping into the seat beside her as Sybil runs into the hallway at the sound of Mary, she stares only at the small bundle in her arms.

"I think Edith's finding this harder than she was." Cora turns her eyes from the button nose and wisps of hair that were decided Michael's colour.

"Really?"

"Yes. I think she might have been crying when I got downstairs. And Marigold's nappy wasn't changed." She looks down at the little face again, the lips that were forming into a perfect 'o' as Cora made a funny face, before they broadened into a line, twitching slightly at the corners.

"It might have just been a bad day, let's not panic yet." Edith had been on a record high with Marigold but that hadn't stopped her and Robert watching closely, the honeymoon period with a baby always passed at some point and with Edith it was making sure it didn't pass and leave her crumpled and alone.

"I wasn't. Let's just try and keep an eye on her." Robert fidgets with Marigold's toes causing her to squirm her feet. Cora holds out her finger near Marigold's own tiny digits and she wraps her mini nails easily over her grandmother's finger.

Matthew and Mary appear in the doorway. Matthew comes over to give them a bottle of wine which he explains is clearly for after the baby is born before he tickles Marigold's tummy. Mary stays back, hesitating in the doorway and wearily casting her eyes on Matthew's back as he plays with her niece. She seems to catch Cora staring and smiles softly her eyes quickly darting around the room, falling on each of the items Edith had already left on the table and floor. All items for Marigold.

Cora drops her gaze, not wanting to draw Robert's attention to their eldest daughter's reaction. He'd already pestered twice more about the fertility issue he'd finally made her spill on that shopping trip weeks ago. But Cora had kept quiet, pretending she didn't know.

Violet enters the room chatting with Sybil, it seemed both of them had been in the kitchen with Rosamund.

"Aunt Roz says dinner is five minutes." Sybil comes galloping further into the room, leaning over to touch Marigold's cheek. "And she wants all the canapés eaten." Everyone launches for the tables but Cora finds herself with the sudden urge for the toilet as Robert wafts a prawn canapé in front of her mouth. She eats it easily but immediately excuses herself, leaving Marigold in Robert's caring arms.

She was well aware he'd been worried about being a father again, that he'd forgotten what to do. But seeing him with Marigold just proved he hadn't. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he clearly loved doing it.

She places her hand on her own baby as she crosses the hall, realising all in a flash that he hasn't kicked for a good half an hour. A gentle frown meets her from the mirror in the downstairs cloakroom and she tries to ignore it. But something somewhere tells her not to. She's about to turn and go back to Robert, to call Clarkson when she feels the sensation she'd been dreading since the last time it happened. Her hands shakes as she removes her clothes to check, not the she really needed to. The scarlet stain was lighter but it was its brightness that gets Cora. It seems to scream at her.

She steps out the downstairs toilet at the sound of voices in the hallway. Her family. Her precious family making there way to the beautiful dinner Roz had prepared. A chorus of words meet her ears before she has to say anything. Rosamund appears from nowhere to support her shaking frame, Matthew takes her other side as she sees Robert take the phone. A second later he asks for an ambulance.

Cora'a unsurprised to hear her mother-in-law instructing Sybil to join her in the kitchen and wrap the food into tin foil and placing it in the hamper—she was so much calmer than everyone else in a crisis.

"Yes. Vaginal bleeding. She's pregnant, thirty-one weeks. And has been diagnosed with placenta preavia!" Robert yells down the phone, sending a deafening silence over the hallway. "Yes. That is the correct address." He slams the phone back on the hook. "As if I sounded like I was winding them up. I ask you!" He answers their collective stares and comes back over to sit by her. "You'll be fine." She only nods meekly, she wasn't about to tell her horror stricken husband, however much she loved him, that she could feel the bleeding had got twice as heavy as it had been. There was nothing he could do. Nothing any of them could do. Even as the mother she felt entirely helpless. Her life was in the hands of the professionals, Edward's life she reckoned was in his own tiny hands. In his own willpower and strength—was he strong enough to hold on?

* * *

" _This family dinner is all very excellent but I'm assuming there's a reason you've tried so hard Cora dear." She'd been waiting for the biting comments since the moment she had started planning the event. What she hadn't expected was to Violet to voice them after not even one sip of alcohol. In fact she had not even nodded her hello to Robert yet. But she was intent on invading the kitchen, the space Cora had chosen, unconsciously, to hide herself.  
_

 _"Violet really. I just like family occasions. It was how my Christmas' were back home." She eyes her awkwardly as she sits at one of the wooden chairs. Cora's not silly, she easily knows that her mother-in-law is not listening to a word she says, or believing it. They both knew what this was about but Cora knew Violet well enough to know that she wants Cora to crack under the pressure of her gaze and there was no way she was letting that happen. Not on Christmas Day. Violet could keep staring as long as she liked but she would hold on and force her to say the words first._

 _"Guess what!" Rosamund swirls into the room scattering droplets of water from her elaborate fur coat. "Wait, where's Robbie?" Robert enters the room just behind her, Marmaduke trailing in behind and immediately being tugged into his girlfriend's side._

 _"I'm right here Rosamund." He leans down to bestow kisses to her cheeks but she leans back._

 _"Wait, wait." Robert obediently does as he is told, greeting his mother instead. Cora only remains staring at her excitable sister, only turning to lift the lid on the bubbling vegetables. "Look." She peels off her gloves to reveal a large, very large diamond on her ring finger._

 _Cora laughs and hugs her tightly, Robert gives Marmaduke a handshake and Violet even raises her congratulations in an excited manner._

 _"Oh Roz, Duke that's great news. A true reason to celebrate today." They all move to the table and continue talking as she checks the Turkey and investigates the vegetables again._

 _"Well it was all very lovely-" But Cora finds she doesn't really hear Rosamund's account of the proposal turning her attention much more easily to the roast potatoes and turkey for the second time in the last minute. She did want to listen, she did, particularly as Rosamund's proposal was likely to distract Violet from the pending questions over her own marriage but she equally really didn't want to mess up this dinner. She desperately needed to keep Violet on side and as quiet as possible._

 _"Do you want some help there Cora?" It was Marmaduke, carefully manoeuvring himself around her so he can grab a towel and help her lift the turkey from the oven. She finds her thermometer and dips it in. "I must say it's very good of you to do Christmas dinner for us all."_

" _It's nothing. And congratulations. I'm very pleased, even if I seem a little flustered."_

 _"Between you and I Cora. It's the only way to keep women of Crawley blood quiet." She laughs at that, knowing full well Marmaduke was no doubt right—she could imagine both Violet and Rosamund had been breathing down his neck on the subject—but she also knew he was very much suited to her sister. She announces the turkey is be ready and Marmaduke is good enough to start carving while she loads the plates with potatoes, stuffing and the vegetables she'd prepared before filling the jug with gravy. Robert seems to disappear to lay the table in the dining room and help his mother to her seat._

 _"I missed Roz when she was talking a minute ago. Was it this morning you asked, or last night?"_

 _"This morning. Hence her excitement when we arrived. It was meant to be last night but, alas, the moment never presented itself. And believe me if we'd had her way we would never have made it to this lunch." Cora laughs again, finding her mind drifting to the long night and following day she and Robert had enjoyed after he'd proposed._

 _"I can well imagine. Why Christmas time exactly. Isn't it a bit, well, special already?"_

 _"Maybe. But Roz is such a fan of all the festivities and I just didn't want to wait if I'm honest." He starts loading the plates with the turkey and he tells her he will take two through to the dining room and come back._

 _She finds herself surprised therefore when it's Robert's hands that run easily over her back and down to her hips less than a minute later. His lips can't seem to resist and they curl into her neck and press sweetly._

 _"It looks and smells delicious. But you looked down a minute ago. Is something the matter?"_

 _"No. Just your mother. I can tell she's trying to prey on me."_

 _"Why on earth would she be doing that?" She balls the oven gloves up in her hand and presses them to his chest._

 _"Because we've been married almost two years and she wants a grandchild."_

 _"Cora." He takes her face between his hands. "She'll have to wait. Don't let her upset you. It's Christmas." He kisses her temple. "And the necklace looks gorgeous, which I'm pleased about."_

 _They had exchanged a small gift that morning before the others had arrived, before they'd even got up actually. Robert's gift to her had been a rather expensive Swarovski necklace. It was tiny and delicate with two hearts, one slightly bigger than the other as the central pendant, slightly higher up the chain were three red garnet stones. Cora loved it and had immediately put it on._

 _As for the matter of children she and Robert just wanted a little more time to enjoy their rather less than innocent and rather impulsive married life. She particularly couldn't quite see herself a mother yet and she enjoyed her work, which she'd decided years ago she'd likely give up once she had children. Building a relationship with her children was important to her and she felt that she needed to dedicate all her time to them. It wasn't as though the money she was earning meant anything anyway. She was a lucky woman to be in a position to be able to look after her children without running the family into monetary troubles and she wasn't about to throw the opportunity many women dreamed of away._

 _She picks up the last two plates and carries them through. It's doesn't surprise her that the Christmas tape was already blaring from the player, Rosamund delightfully singing along._

 _The meal passes easily enough with discussions of Christmas' past and the silly jokes in the crackers. They have a still longer discussion about the prices of Christmas trees these days and the lack of any with the kind of size that looked good in their houses. It was true she and Robert had spent a whole weekend on the hunt for a tree for them but it was done now and they supposed they now knew where to look first next year._

 _The Christmas pudding goes down a treat, although Violet does suggest that next year she tries her hand at making one rather then purchasing a microwave one._

 _"If you're saying that Mum I'll contribute the pudding next year." Rosamund reaches her hand across the table and taps Cora's. "Not because you can't make one right Cora but because you're being so good to host a group of people that are only your in-laws and making them all one of the best Christmas dinners ever. Maybe the rest of us should contribute more if you decide to do this again." Her eyes stayed trained on her mother and Robert seems to sense that the conversation is making Cora prickle and quickly quips about how marvellous she his—having made him a portion of beans on toast, which she hated, for his breakfast that morning._

 _"It wasn't as if I was any help with the dinner either."_

 _"That's not true." She leans against his side. "You peeled some of the veg, laid the table, selected and purchased the wines. And if I remember correctly you spent the morning dancing around the kitchen to Christmas songs for my own personal entertainment." Robert clears his throat and turns away, a tinge of colour masking his cheeks._

 _After finishing the second bottle of wine Robert had uncorked they find themselves sat in the living room, piles of dirty plates left haphazardly in the sink, marvelling over the expanse of presents that didn't come close to overshadowing the tree._

 _"The Queen is on at three." Violet glances up from behind the paper placing her glasses pointedly back in her case. Cora was going to suggest they open the presents but it seemed her mother-in-law had sensed that and indirectly reminded her that there were no presents until after Her Majesty._

 _She wasn't sure how Violet expected to explain to young children that they were to wait for their presents until after the speech, a Crawley tradition, but she wasn't about to have that argument, it was far too close to the subject they were both avoiding._

 _"Next year we might have more presents under the tree, what do you think?" Cora feels Robert stiffen beside her. Rosamund laughs, oblivious of the tension, or the intended recipient of the statement._

 _"Well it depends if we all keep making money Ma, otherwise we won't be able to afford any more."_

 _"I more meant that maybe there would be more people to buy for." Rosamund sits bolt upright._

 _"Have you found a boyfriend mum?"_

 _"Certainly not! Don't be preposterous." She arches her eyebrow at her youngest daughter as she taps her glasses on her knee. Marmaduke tries to hide a laugh in Rosamund's hair and he fails. "And I would beg you Mr Painswick to keep your fiancée in check as any other decent man would, rather then laughing at her being rude to her mother." That seems to check Marmaduke who slips his arm out from behind Roz's back and shifts to a more upright position in the seat. "As two of you well know, what I meant by more presents was an addition to the family-" Rosamund opens her mouth to clearly contest that was what she had suggested. "A young addition to the family. A baby."_

 _His fingers press into her hip, shifting her against his side. Her hand moves to her necklace, twisting it through her hands._

 _"Oh Cora! Is Ma saying I'm going to be an Aunt?!" That was Rosamund leaning far forward in the opposite settle and smiling broadly._

 _"Rosamund, what has got into you. Do you really think your brother has chosen sensibly to start a family yet. Of course not! I imagine Cora had persuaded him she wishes not to-"_

 _"Mother." A stilted croak comes from her mouth as Robert jumps to his feet. "You will have grandchildren. Cora and I both want a family. Just not quite yet. That is the end of the matter, there is plenty of time."_

 _"Indeed. Indeed. But you have the Establishment-"_

 _"Yes. I do have the company to consider and right now the company needs Cora arranging my schedule NOT having my children. That is it! That is all of it!" He leaves the room just as the Queen appears on the to screen sat in the corner._

 _"He is right of course. You do an excellent job, Cora. What he has overlooked though, in his running off, is that you, my dear, see your job as less important than your eventual role as a mother. I can see it in your eyes. You should tell him." Cora gulps. Violet had a way of seeing through everybody. And it was true Cora did see being a mother and raising her children how she wished was the most important part of her life that was left._

 _Three minutes pass without Cora really noticing; the Queen a gentle hum in the background of her crowded thoughts._

 _"You may be right Violet but I do still want to work a little longer."_

 _"Of course you do. But men take a little more time to wind up to these ideas. If you don't start discussing it now, the time will come when you want it and he won't have even thought of it. That's all. I know I spoke harshly but Robert is notoriously stubbornly as you well know. Now, I'll lay out the presents in the right piles and you go get Robert." Violet pats her back as she heads towards the tree, turning the television off as she does so. It was the first truly comforting gesture the woman had ever given her and Cora finds it may have instilled some much needed courage that maybe it was time she used more of it with Robert._

 _She finds him in the kitchen nursing a small glass of wine. She takes it from him and instead fills him half a glass of water._

 _"It was very good of you to defend me but I can fight my own battles." He turns towards her, leaving his back against the sink._

" _I know you can, but she is my mother and she shouldn't talk to you like that."_

 _"She meant no harm. Now, come on, it's present time." She takes his hand and reaches up to kiss his cheek as they head back to the lounge._

 _"Happy Christmas Cora." He nuzzles his nose in her hair as they walk through the hall._

 _"You too." He reaches his arm right around her as they enter the room and she holds it there, against her stomach as he kisses her neck. Maybe in two years she might be pregnant at Christmas, who knows? What she did know was that she didn't want to wait any longer than that. Which meant that maybe her mother-in-law's harsh treatment would prove to be a blessing. A blessing that kept her and Robert on the same side through what would no doubt prove to be the hardest stepping stone of their marriage—the patter of tiny feet._


	19. Chapter 19

AN: Thanks for all the reviews. Like last week, I haven't replied as life is taking over for a month or so now, but please still leave them as it might help me shake off the writers block! Thanks again, and enjoy!

* * *

 _Robert knew she was tired but he could also tell her eyes were burning with questions and ideas. Not about their trip to Berlin Wall today, she'd already asked all her questions to the knowledgeable guide. No, her eyes were glittering with questions about them._

 _Robert had been awaiting this conversation with trepidation and a strange itching excitement for just over a year. They'd had plentiful hit short discussions about having children but he felt a sixth sense that this weekend, a month before their third wedding anniversary, was going to be decision time._

 _Their anniversary outings were almost as important to him as the tradition he'd set up of purchasing her a gift linked to the year of their marriage. Leather had proved to be a challenge for a while but then he'd found a beautiful handbag which had solved the problem. They had already discussed that if they had no holiday—no proper week long one—until the children were long gone from home, they would definitely leave the children with their grandmother or Aunt, if only for one night over their anniversary. It was a special day for them and even Cora had conceded she would like it as a day that was always for them._

 _She comes over to join him by the window, her bare arms wrapping easily around his waist._

 _"It's a beautiful hotel. It's been a beautiful trip." It was true that Hotel Aldon was quite something. Right in the centre of Berlin looking out over a large expanse of park._

 _She kisses his shoulder, taking his eyes away from the streaming lights that raced beneath the windows as the darkness stretched on. London always seemed to sleep. But Berlin seemed to still be a hive of activity at ten at night. Cora had said if he didn't like this he would never cope with New York._

 _"What are you thinking about darling?" Her fingers trace over the front of his shirt, her nose still smoothing softly from his neck to the apex of his shoulder._

 _"I was thinking about you. About us." She closes her eyes softly as he pulls the curtains closed and turns to her. The noises outside drift into insignificance, everything did when he was looking at her._

 _"Oh?" He takes a deep breath, and reaching for both her hands he pushes her backwards towards the large bed._

 _"Um, about a family." She pauses which immediately makes him panic. Her eyes drop and she releases his hand, which now free reaches instantly for his hair._

 _"Are you sure?" She sits on the edge of the bed and he climbs on beside her sitting cross legged. She immediately shuffles around so she can sit leaning against him. He curls his fingers into their favourite spot on top of her hip, just beneath the soft cotton vest top she had taken to wearing in bed with her pants—not that it stayed on very often._

 _"It's what we both want in the end. And I think...I think there's always going to be a reason to put it off. So, we're better doing it and enjoying those experiences while we're young. We've had seven years together now, you and I and its been beautiful but now...now I think I want to build a family with you by my side." She says nothing which only serves to unnerve him, had he said the right things, just gently rubs her fingers down the inside of his thigh, teasing beneath the folds of his dressing gown._

 _"That was a very heart warming little speech." He laughs and kisses the edge of her hair above her ear. "When are you thinking of having this family of ours start?"_

 _"Now that, is not something I am going to dictate. That's for you. You're the one who is going to have to carry the baby and probably quit your job. I would like the little one to be in the world in the next two years but-" He stops, seeing her soft smile building from the corners of her mouth as spreading into her cheeks._

 _"What about sooner?" She lifts her head from his shoulder, swivelling onto her knees and dropping her gaze immediately to the collar of his dressing gown. It was her nervous habit, losing eye contact. He knows he must have given her the wrong impression—he should have said something. She moves back, turning away from him to pull back the sheets. "Or not. It doesn't matter. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, being a father is-"_

 _"How much sooner?" She turns, her body falling into the space she'd made beneath the sheets. Her knees falling flat to the bedding while the heels of her feet stay stuck together in front of her—like one of those stretches he remembers doing in gym at school._

 _"I thought maybe..." She twists her thumb over the knuckle on her ankle. He shuffles forward, stilling the motion and kissing the top of her dipped head. She finally looks up to his eyes and he kisses the tip of her nose. "Maybe if the little one was in the world by about this time next year. Or very early spring?" It didn't take much mental maths to realise that meant, if the baby was born early April Cora would have to conceive by the beginning of July. His shock must show because she traces her finger down the side of his face, tickling beneath his collar. "Or later, I'm happy to wait."_

 _Robert finds himself thinking about Rosamund as a baby. She always was, despite being younger, so much more outgoing than him. He had been old enough, five at the time, to remember holding his baby sister and taking his mother's advice on how to support her head. He can remember his cousin Patrick as a young baby too. Looking at Cora now, sat in front of him, her fingers toying anxiously with her pillow he can see her nestling a child between her arms. He could picture the warm glow, twice as beautiful as his own mother's had been as she'd gazed at Rosamund—he can see it in his minds eye, how lovely it will be. Cora wanted to be a mother. Robert could admit to himself he perhaps wasn't one hundred percent prepared but he knew how he'd wondered at his own sister and cousins and he was sure he would wonder and adore still more his own children. Their children._

 _Cora and he learning to be parents, together. That filled him with a warm shiver that runs down his back and into the hand that rests on her ankle._

 _"I think that would be nice. A baby early next year. I would like that."_

 _"Robert, you don't have to just agree."_

 _"I'm not, trust me. You and I learning to be parents together, to think of it makes me happy. To think of you nursing my child fills me with an idiotic thrill." She blushes at that and he curses himself for phrasing it so. "I didn't mean the feeding thing. Just in general, you mothering my baby. Our baby."_

 _"Really?" He slides into the bed beside her and shifts her to sit in his lap. She squeals as he moves her—it still took her by surprise when he lifted her in what appeared to be an effortless fashion, in honesty it was far from that._

 _"Yes. Really. You'll be quite perfect, I can tell already."_

 _"You'll be an excellent father too. I don't think I've said that before." She wraps her hands around his, curling her thumb between his knuckles and smoothing the fingers of her other hand gently over the lines on his palm._

 _He tilts her head to one side with his face, pushing his nose along the hairline that runs down behind her ear. He can smell the rich scents she'd sprayed there earlier._

 _He turns his lips away from the smells that tingle in his nose that so exude the warmth that was Cora, and instead trails his lips along her shoulder._

 _"Cora, you know you said you wanted four children that time." She nods gently, as he sits back, toying one of his hands over the tiny strap of her vest. "You never told me what genders you had seemingly always dreamt of."_

 _"I haven't always dreamt, just since I met you." She turns in his lap and slips back into the bed, burying herself all the way up to her chin in the covers. He tries tugging them down so he can watch his hand smooth beneath the fabric of her top as he to slides down into the heavy fabrics of the expensive hotel bed but she holds then steadfast over herself. "Hold me."_

 _He obliges easily enough, wrapping her in his embrace. He lets his hands dance on the bare skin above her pants, twisting his fingers beneath the waistband every so often. Her own fingers brush over his chest and Robert relishes in the feeling. The simple feeling that seemed to portray so much._

 _"So, these dreams." She slides onto her back, her eyes fixing on his face as he twists onto his front, brushing his finger with intention over her belly button. Her hand immediately grabs his reckless one._

 _"No tickling Robert." He dips his face over hers delighted when she closes her eyes and squirms—his fingers dancing over her tummy. When his fingers still her eyes remain closed and he knows she can sense the closeness of his lips to her own when she tilts her own upwards, searching._

 _"And no kissing for you my darling until you tell me the dreams." Her eyes narrow as she opens them and he finds himself giving in as her warm blue eyes melt into a darker shade._

 _Her lips part immediately, a soft sigh spilling out. Her tongue flicks at his but he pulls himself away desperate to hear about the little family she had thought about, possibly even the names she had wondered long and hard over._

 _"And to think you said no to kissing one minute and the next you can't get enough. What am I supposed to say to that, Lord Grantham?" He prickles at the use of his title, which was clearly her intention by the grin that is spilling over her cheeks. He tugs her against him, roughly and positions his arms in a away that makes her escape impossible. She fidgets for a second trying to break free before she chuckles softly. "You are funny you know. You're trying to punish me and I've ended up curled in your arms, quite my favourite spot." He kisses her forehead._

 _"Stop delaying Cora. Tell me."_

" _Well. I always thought four. Two quite close together and then a larger gap, six years maybe before the second two." Robert could easily see how such a plan would work. Two children to love and enjoy for six years before increasing the size of their little family again. The other two children would be old enough to appreciate, hopefully, a younger sibling. "And you know. Two girls and two boys would be nice. But that seems rather perfect." She drops her gaze._

 _"This is meant to be your dreams Cora. Dreams are the escape from reality, you can choose whatever you wish. And I must say I like your thoughts very much." He cuddles her closer again and he tucks herself beneath his chin. "Do you have a particular order? Girl first? Boy first?"_

 _"A girl I think. Only so even if we end up with three other boys I know I don't have the ultimate disaster of four excitable males." He laughs but he smiles softly, he had seen families in town with a mother struggling with four boys and somehow everyone always seemed to mumble about it being a handful. Yet, a family of four girls and everyone usually sighed. "Of course I say that but I'm not sure four girls of similar ages is any easier. Too much competition but I will still go for a girl first. All those pretty dresses we could buy." Robert finds himself nodding, smoothing his fingers over her cheeks._

 _"I would like a girl first too, then a boy and then two more girls." He isn't sure where that came from, he hadn't consciously realised he'd been thinking about such things._

 _"It seems you've been doing some dreaming too." He pulls her with him further beneath the covers, the funny feeling of the sheet rising and falling with the cool air that rushes in and then out, making his skin tingle._

 _"I have. It's you, you have that effect on me." She squeals as he pulls the sheet right over their heads. When he pushes her gently onto her back and straddles her waist she can't seem to stop herself from laughing. He laughs with her after some time, and just as she begins to calm he can't resist rubbing the very tips of his nails over her skin causing her to squirm up again._

 _"I'm beginning to question whether you'll be such a good father after all. Such childish behaviour!" But her hands are smoothing over his back and tugging softly at the hair at the back of his head, tilting her face up into his. Her lips press and he presses back, softly, and then firmly._

 _They are both struggling for breath within a few seconds but Robert finds that he can't bear to take his lips from hers. When he tries to she seems to agree pushing the sheet off from over their heads bathing them in light and a rush of cool air._

* * *

Robert's eyes jump open, the sound of her laugh fading into the rustling of the doctors scrubs and the ringing of the telephone.

A baby's cry.

Marigold.

The burst of hope that had settled for a split second in his heart is gone replaced by the anxious wondering of his heart and mind. It's wasn't Cora sat opposite him nursing a crying baby it was Rosamund humming to a three month old Marigold—her mother nowhere in sight.

His eyes fall again on the vacant seat beside him. No Cora. His eyes then travel immediately to his watch. Thinking, wondering and calculating. Thirty minutes.

Three. Zero.

That was all the time he had been here and yet it felt like a life time. Cora had been whisked way the moment they had touched down at the hospital. The paramedics had informed him that he wouldn't be able to join her in the operating room—there wasn't time for him to change and be dressed suitably when Cora's was to be an emergency operation.

One hour.

That was how long the surgeon had said until he could see her. Them. The sixty minutes that sealed his fate. Cora's fate. The fate of their unborn baby.

Rosamund catches his eye for half a second across the echoing waiting room. Sisters and brothers jumped around and new Dad's raced through the wards with presents and supplies. New grandmothers kissing cheeks and handing over knitted mittens. Other couples left the reception with a wave, a bundle of blankets hidden in a baby carrier or being clutched close to a chest.

Yet Robert was sat staring at his grandchild. His only grandchild who had in the last few weeks brought so much joy and feeling, preparations for Christmas had been full on with a baby to buy for and yet, seeing her now, he felt nothing.

His minds, his hopes and thoughts were focused on a life that he didn't know had arrived yet. A life he wasn't sure would make it to Rosamund's arms.

"She'll be alright." Her body shifts beneath the crying baby but Robert can't bring himself to answer her, or agree. She hadn't been in the ambulance. Rosamund hadn't been watching as the bleeding had got heavier, unwilling to stop. She hadn't listened to cries of pain from Cora.

"Give Marigold here." Robert reaches across and Rosamund settles her in his arms. She quietens almost immediately and Robert finds himself stiffening under his sister's gaze.

Holding Marigold, particularly late at night, feeding her from the bottle Edith left in the fridge. It was only a habit of the last few weeks. When Robert had awoken on the settee in the lounge—he'd fallen asleep after watching a film with Cora—to sounds of crying from below. He'd left it be, but a full five minutes later when the cries turned to screams he'd taken himself downstairs to find Edith seemingly crying along with her baby. Marigold perched awkwardly on the settee beside her. Robert had taken Marigold into his arms and sent Edith back to bed.

He'd not told anyone. And every time Edith came near she looked him straight in the eyes, pleading with him to keep it all under wraps.

He studies the blue eyes set in her face—Michael's. The wisps of hair on her head that are also Michael's. All Robert sees is the soldier. The tiny little baby girl was the image of her father. It made him shake his head and curse the unjust nature of the world. Of war. The tears prick behind his eyes as he realises the baby girl will never know her father. This was him, the grandfather who got all the perks of having a granddaughter without the hours of effort fathering the child actually took up. Edith he knew must look at Marigold and see only Michael. She looks and sees everything she has lost. She feels swamped and confused in a world of bottles and crying, burping and nappy changes. She was finding it too much.

Marigold stretches her toes in her baby suit and Robert takes his finger there to entice them to move again.

"Dad you're meant to be getting her to sleep. She needs to sleep." Edith has appeared from nowhere to sit beside him half snatching Marigold roughly back. He is about to rebuke her for such harsh behaviour but the dark lines under her eyes and the smudges of her make-up stop him. She was in no fit state for another pressure on her mind. Baby Marigold was a big enough problem.

"Rosamund why don't you and Edith go home. Marigold is more likely to settle in a familiar environment. Mary and Matthew are still about."

"No Dad. I want to stay at least until we know Mum is definitely alright. Besides Rosamund and I can hardly leave you alone in the waiting room as tense as you are when Mary and Matthew have disappeared to goodness knows where doing goodness knows what at such an important moment." Robert chooses not to comment. It was clear Edith and Mary's relationship was still quite the same as it ever was—frayed and worn. And as he'd seen earlier, when Mary had arrived she'd quite clearly avoided her niece whereas Matthew had made such a fuss of the young baby being rocked by Cora. Robert didn't doubt the sore point at the moment was whatever Mary's fertility problem may or may not have been sorted of which he supposed Edith knew nothing about.

Sybil had always been the only thing that his two older girls agreed upon but Sybil seemed so much much younger than her sisters now that one was married and the other a mother while she is still in school.

He glances across at her, asleep in her fancy trouser suit against her sleeping grandmother. Their hands wrapped together, a blanket from the car covering both of them. She looked so peaceful and happy.

He envied them, both of them, every time Robert's eyes closed they flew back open at the sound of a door opening or a footstep down the hall. With no Marigold keeping him occupied he finds himself jumping stupidly from the plastic chair and pacing across the squeaky floor.

He can still feel the sticky texture between his fingers that had settled there when he had been holding her hand and smoothing her forehead in the ambulance. The particles of Cora still sat there, mixed with his own between his knuckles. He stuffs them in his pockets, an action that only makes them burn with warmth. He finds his wallet blocking the ability of his fingers to be able to stretch on one side. He pulls it out flipping it to the little clear plastic where he had pictures of Cora and the girls. He'd recently changed the picture of he and Cora. It was one from the holiday—the night they had dined alone together and he'd given her the eternity ring—the photographer on board had taken it and developed it to a small size. Lots of different ones had been taken as they'd stood in front of the screen but he liked this close up one of their upper bodies. His chest pressed to her back, his arms reaching around her—clutching her to him. Not that he was looking at the camera in the shot, his eyes are firmly fixed on her neck and shoulder. And Cora, she looked radiant, entirely radiant. Her blue eyes shine like the sky and her eyelashes almost seem to flick slowing in the photograph. It was strange to think that nestling beneath the their joined hands was the little baby. Edward. The baby who was fighting desperately for life just down one of these corridors.

He had a series of pictures of the girls, all stacked behind the most recent one. And he realises with a jolt that maybe a new picture would be in order, a picture of a tiny little baby boy. Hopefully. Maybe.

Cora had asked him what he thought their little boy might look like and while she had many an idea about how she wanted him to have Robert's hair and her eyes and this and that, he had no idea. He couldn't seem to conjure up an idea at the time. But now, sat here wondering, praying that Cora would make it through, after seeing the blood he'd been able to create an image of the boy. He didn't see him with his blonde curls, he saw Cora's brown curls and her blue eyes. He saw her delicate nose rather than his larger one.

He knew why he'd suddenly seen this. It was the realisation that the dream might never be a reality. They'd both known there was risks with this pregnancy but Robert had only truly comprehended any of them when Simon had pushed her over and even then the problems had been with Cora, not the baby. Now, this time the blood and desperate voices of the nurses and doctors had made it clear they were panicked for the baby. It had brought it all into a starling context. A context that had made him conjure up the hopes and dreams, to picture the boy that surely with his prayers would make it through.

He opens his eyes abruptly—he wasn't sure he had known they were closed again—at the sound of the door he had walked into the waiting room through over an hour ago finally swinging open for the first time. A man he recognises, the man who had taken Cora from the paramedics emerges with a clipboard. With him comes a stink of disinfectant that burned his nostrils. His hands looked red and Robert didn't know, he didn't want to know if it was from blood or scrubbing.

Robert feels himself rise from the chair the moment he enters the room, before the man so much as utters the first syllable of his name. The man looks at him blankly and Robert feels his mouth go slack, his throat tightening. What did that mean?

"Is everything okay doctor-"

"Everything is as was expected Mr Crawley. Doctor Pelham performed the operation and he will give you more details." Robert doesn't have time to conjure up an answer to that cryptic message because he gets shown into a room and Doctor Pelham immediately steps forward walking with him to behind the curtain drawn across in the corner. There was nobody else in the room.

"I'll give you both ten minutes or so but then I need to check Mrs Crawley again. How about I go and tell the family?" Robert nods stupidly. Not daring, or trusting himself to ask what he was going to be telling them. Cora was just beyond the curtain and he had no idea in what state she was in.

He sweeps back the curtain to reveal Cora. She looks as though she might be sat in the bed but it was only the deception of the pillows stacked behind her reclining back.

Not that it's that he notices first. The first thing he notices is her red face, the freckles of liquid that sparkle in her eyes double as he steps towards her.

The second thing, that perhaps he's known subconsciously already, is the lack of a another human being. She was alone. There was no baby cradled in her arms, no cries when he entered the room. And she was looking at him. That gave it away, she'd have been distracted from him with a new baby in her arms.

He doesn't sit on the provided chair, he perches awkwardly on the side of the bed, next to the pillows and wraps his arm around her shoulders. The hospital gown feels rough against his fingers but he twists them in a pattern he knows she likes. He presses his lips to the back of her hair and when he makes to clear his throat he finds himself stopping as she looks up and smiles softly—a woman pausing outside the door, her shadow darkening the room.

"He was beautiful Robert. I could tell even though he was taken away. And his cry was so strong. I'm sure it won't be long until they bring him through to us." Robert is pleased his face is hidden, that she can't see him. Tears spring in his own eyes at the realisation that he indeed was a father again and that Cora was only alone because they had taken him from the operating theatre while she was stitched back up. Half an hour the gentleman had said the stitching would take—the longest part of the procedure. Of course they took little Edward to be weighed and blanketed.

"I'm sure it won't darling. How are you feeling?"

"Nothing really hurts. The stitches are a little sore but it's nothing I can't cope with. I've given birth three times, that was enough to make me immune to most pain and naturally I'm far less tired than if I'd been through labour." She laughs at her own joke softly and he rubs her arm.

The door opens and a nurse appears carrying a bundle that could only be a baby.

"I'm a midwife, Lavinia Swire. I work with the premature babies unit downstairs. And this," she walks over to the bed and Robert stands so she can get nearer Cora, "is Master Crawley." She lowers the bundle into Cora's arms. He squirms a little at the transition but then settles at Cora's sigh. "Doctor Pelham and I will be back in soon to discuss the plan for the next week but we'll give you some time first."

Robert only half hears her, his mind is too busy processing the tiny boy. And he was little. A three week early baby was definitely going to be small, not that he was as little as Sybil had been. Edward's lips are slightly open the tip of his tongue evident between the gap. His ears had beautiful perfectly shaped lobes, and his eyes are a pale blue. He knew that was likely going to change but he couldn't help hoping it wouldn't, they were stunning eyes. His chin has a tiny dimple which Cora presses her finger into.

Robert blinks rapidly three times, pushing away the tears that we're building. The tears of a joy that had been so long waiting. A fourth baby. Their fourth child. The tiny little boy he'd always wanted to be the only boy of his house of girls. But Edward is already more than that, he is a miracle.

* * *

Edward.

She hadn't said the name out loud yet. But the letters written on the page confirmed that those six letters did in fact make up the first name of the boy cradled in her arms.

Despite previous ideas of incorporating Stephen into the Edward's name, Rosamund had refused the use of the name she had chosen for the boy she had held in her arms all those years ago and herself and Robert had readily accepted that decision.

There was something else she was beginning to realise, with the two doctors now having talked them through next few days, that she hadn't done. Robert had been sat beside her, arm fixed around her back or on her shoulders. His free hand, playing with Edward's feet or fingers.

"You should hold him, before the others come." He nods almost stiffly. She would normally reach over and hand him the baby but with the dressing they'd applied to her abdomen and the discomfort she felt there she couldn't reach over. Not only that but she was hooked up to a machine that was drip feeding her the anaesthesia to reduce the pain, as well as food and drink. The doctor had warned she wasn't to lift anything heavier than Edward.

Robert seems to panic, his arms clearly hesitating as he leans over her careful not to pull the drip. He places his hand perfectly behind Edward's head and she touches his arm, giving him an encouraging smile as he finally lifts him.

She takes the opportunity to immediately lie flatter in the bed and turning to her side—the doctor had said that might elevate the pain when she was feeding Edward, which it had when she'd tried it, and sure enough as she finds the same dips in the bed she throbbing seems to quieten in her mind.

She can't be sure it's actually the position of her body that eases her mind or if watching Robert cradle his son was enough for her to not be able to process any thoughts that aren't related to that.

His eyes are wide and sparkling stupidly, and there's the way his fingers can't seem to stop fiddling with the little ones feet. And tickling over his tummy. He slips his finger between the four digits that all together weren't the width of even half of one of Robert's fingers. Edward's little palm was no bigger than a third of the length of Robert's middle finger. He dribbles a little milk when Robert tickles by his chin and he gulps awkwardly, a little choking sound is followed by soft bubbles and then the dribbles. He had fed easily enough leaving Cora's piece of mind intact.

He was a big baby for thirty-one weeks. Although he was premature his closeness to the thirty-two weeks that usually stipulated a baby perfectly able to cope on his own in the world had meant he was breathing almost perfectly and the midwife had been perfectly content with the way he was taking to the feeding and other vital statistics they had measured. They would however keep him with the other premature babies overnight and monitor him closely.

Robert glances her way as Edward's little eyes close for a short period, as if he is trying to find sleep. He had cried out a couple of times in the last thirty minutes and he hadn't properly settled after the feed but in the last five minutes he had calmed a great deal and now, in his father's arms which were able to rock him far better than Cora's own immovable body, he was finally closing his eyes. She was rather selfishly hoping he would be asleep before the family came in.

The steadier gaze that Robert holds with her a second later makes her lift her face from the pillow. He reaches up, placing a wriggling and whimpering Edward between them to kiss her soundly. It had been some months since he'd kissed her with such a sense of passion and she finds herself indulging him.

He'd been excessively good at looking after her and refraining from so much as tempting her into anything more than a few light kisses. Not that any of that would change for at least six weeks, maybe longer. The doctor was worried she may bleed more than normal given that removing the placenta had caused some difficulty.

He smooths her cheek gently as Edward starts crying again, he takes him up immediately, rocking gently.

"I'm a very lucky man. Another gorgeous baby and a wonderful wife." She smiles softly, reaching her hand to smooth over Edward's tummy.

"I refuse to take all the credit. We wouldn't have had another baby without you. And as for me being your wife that was again all down to your own brilliantness." He laughs very quietly, Edward's closed eyes hushing his voice. It seemed it certainly hadn't forgotten that baby sleep time was not to be disturbed.

"I wouldn't say having a slightly unhealthy desire for my wife is entirely brilliant but if you think it is I've no need to complain." She rolls her eyes, shifting ever so slightly further towards the edge of the bed her current position was becoming uncomfortable again.

"When are the others coming?"

"I don't know. Not long I suppose." As if they'd been listening outside the door Rosamund peaks her head round the doorframe.

"I thought you might want this." She steps into the room, immediately making her words a whisper as she spies the sleepy bundle. In her hand is the few bags she and Robert had been sorting for weeks ready for the day, or more at the hospital. She puts it down in the corner.

"Did you go home for that?" That was Robert, nodding at the bag as he talks.

"Yes. When the doctor said you were all fine and he just wanted to run through the medical things I went back for it." She moves over to Robert and the baby, almost hesitantly, twisting her wedding ring slowly on her finger. She leans over and flickers a lovely smile but it fades slightly as she gazes for a longer time. Her eyes tracing the features of Edward's face and no doubt bringing back to life some hard memories.

"I'll go and get the girls and Mum. Congratulations you two, by the way."

"Thank you Roz." She slips back out the door. Robert stands gently, clearly trying not to jolt Edward.

"Do you want me to help you sit up?"

"This position is a lot more comfortable, your dear mother will just have to lump it."

"What is it I'm having to lump?" Robert swivels on his heels revealing the door that had been blocked from Cora's vision. She gulps like a child in the hands of a harrowing teacher. But then Violet had always had that effect. Edward seems to immediately sense a greater being has entered the room and begins to cry.

Doctor Swire had been insistent that when he cried they kept a close monitor on how he was breathing through that—if he really struggled for breath or began choking she was to ring the bell immediately. It was all down to his lungs potentially still being slightly under developed.

Robert rocks and swirls, humming silly songs but still he cries on as her girls enter the room. Mary and Edith both looked as thought they were about to fall asleep walking but Sybil was the exact opposite, seemingly hyper. She walks over to her father and brother, peering to look at his little face.

"Are you not behaving little brother. Do you want mum?" She gently rubs over his stomach with her hand and just for a brief moment the crying wanes. She tries again, and laughs at herself as she hears the gentle hush of her brother. Cora can't help but smile as she watches on, her baby girl was fast becoming attached to her baby boy.

Edward seems to lose his amusement in his sister though and the crying resumes again. Robert glances around apologetically and comes back over to the bed.

"Edith, Sybil, could you come and help me sit up, I think I ought to try and get him to stop crying." Surprisingly her mother-in-law has sprung across the room and perfectly supporting her back, while Cora supports her abdomen (as the doctor had told her to) moves the cushions about until she is comfortable. A sharp pain rips through her at one point but she ignores Violet's hesitant gaze, she hardly felt the pain except in that one position she had just found. The doctor assured her that should pass within the day.

Robert transfers Edward and as if by miracle the moment his nose brushes over her skin, his hands stretch from the blanket to touch her hand as she repositions the blankets and he quietens. It was true babies were supposed to be able to recognise the touches and smells of their parents and it seemed this little one already knew that she was going to be protecting him, no matter what.

"Now, now. There's a good Edward."

"Edward?" She blushes stupidly as three different voices echo her words.

"Yes. Edward William." Sybil moves closer to the bed, Mary, twisting her hands around awkwardly just behind. Matthew seemed to be missing but then she supposed he was in charge of baby Marigold.

"It's a lovely name, isn't it little one?" That was Sybil again, leaning over to touch his cheek.

"I would say you can hold him Mary, but he really ought to be asleep soon." She shakes her head precisely at the idea, stepping away.

"I'm fine. I'm quite happy watching." Cora knew she wasn't. She was well aware the true problem here was nothing to do with her aversion to children, she had adored Sybil as a baby. No, this was most certainly to do with the results she'd had back from her test and the small operation she was going to have to have, all as far as she knew without Matthew knowing. When Cora had questioned her reasons for keeping Matthew out of the picture she had been given no answer which made Cora think this was all to do with something, or someone Matthew knew nothing about.

Edith takes her turn stepping over to the bed and admiring her brother. She mutters about him meeting Marigold when he gets home but all Cora sees is the tiredness in Edith's eyes—she needed a word with Rosamund, she'd know what to do.

"I'm sorry I rather ruined the family evening you so wanted."

"It doesn't matter. Babies don't wait. I know that well enough."

Violet has repositioned herself so she can see her grandson's face but Cora finds herself gazing at Robert as his mother admires her newest, and last, grandchild. He was stood at the end of her bed, watching her. Staring as she cuddled their baby. He blows a silly mock kiss as she catches his gaze.

"He is a very handsome viscount Robert I must say. Which naturally I've clearly got Cora to thank for. You and your father were never really 'lookers.'" Cora inwardly rolls her eyes at the teasing, Violet had most certainly caught their exchange of glances and was intent on trying to make one of them flare up in defence of her claim. She did so enjoy an argument after all.

"Thank you mother. I'm sure there's a compliment there somewhere. Now, perhaps-" Robert clasps and unclasps his hands realising, Cora can tell, that they aren't his colleagues and really he can't boss them about.

"It's time we all went. Yes, definitely. I'm assuming you're staying Robert?" Rosamund has appeared from nowhere again and was standing ready with the car keys in hand. When Robert nods, her hand is already propelling Sybil to the door. "I'll bring you back some clothes once every one is home and settled."

Cora finds her eyes drifting shut the minute they are all gone. She was so tired yet so enthused with love and longing. Robert touches her forehead briefly then leans over and kisses it. He takes the sleeping Edward from her chest, letting her kiss his soft head first and lays him in the little bed beside her. Then he comes back to her and helps her lie back down.

"I'm going to stay tonight."

"You don't have to."

"No. But I'm going to. Rosamund is perfectly capable of looking after Sybil."

"What would we do without her?" Robert smiles at that, moving her hair from her brow and kissing her nose.

"What would I do without you?" She shrugs gently taking his hand and weaving her fingers between his. She traces the palm of his hand with her others fingers, smoothing the ridges.

"It's been a good day, Robert. Let's end on a happy note."

"It was already perfectly happy." He leans over and kisses her softly, which is all that she needs to let her mind rest entirely.


	20. Chapter 20

AN: Thanks for all the lovely words of support this week. My muse is somewhat back, but not entirely. I usually write a chapter a week but haven't written a whole one in two weeks yet. The story looks like it could be finishing at about 26 chapters. I have an idea in mind for another story which might be up during the summer, there's some one shots I have in mind as well and of course a prequel to this story at some point. Anyway, I've rambled, I hope you enjoy and please review.

* * *

Fingers brush delicately, softly as she takes his jacket. Her lips purposely seem to miss his when he leans down to kiss her hello, her eyes remaining fixed on Phyllis standing just behind him.

Not that Phyllis was just standing, her eyes were scanning the hallway, mouth slightly agape as she took in the grand staircase. But Robert knew well enough her presence made Cora tense—she wasn't a fan of affection in front of others. Not because she didn't want to but with the likes of Phyllis, she disliked embarrassing them.

"I feel rather bad, pushing in like this Mrs Crawley." Phyllis always had been a woman of her morals but Robert had insisted she came for dinner tonight. It was a thank you for running the office so efficiently for the last two weeks while he had been in and out like a yoyo.

"It's Cora, please. You're not pushing in. Goodness you've been almost running the establishment so Robert could take hours out." Robert smiles to himself pleased that the two women seemed to be hitting it off. He knew Phyllis wasn't likely to raise her past experiences tonight, but on another occasion he thinks that Cora and Phyllis could easily make their pasts into something very beneficial. And Phyllis would be a decent friend for Cora—she had so few after dedicating her life to his children. "Dinner shouldn't be too long."

"I should go and wash my hands." Phyllis gently takes her coat off and loops it over the stair rail, her fingers seeming to stick to it as she glances up anxiously.

"Um, second on the right up the stairs and Phyllis, whatever Robert might have said, he's more scary." His assistant finally cracks a smile taking herself slowly up the stairs.

Robert trails Cora to the kitchen, keeping his hand resting on the surge of her back.

"How are you feeling?" She'd been having a little trouble balancing her sleeping and Edward as well as having heavier bleeding than she'd had after the births of her other children. Thankfully, most importantly, her scar was healing perfectly and was showing no signs of infection but none of it stopped him worrying.

"Fine. Better. I managed to sleep when Edward did today."

"And he fed okay?"

"Yes. Fine. Isobel came to give us both the once over and doctor Swire came with her. They are both happy with Edward but still want to keep an eye on me, obviously." She immediately goes over to the corner of the kitchen where she has left Edward's little carry case that he was fast asleep in, checking his forehead for his temperature.

He watches with such pride, wrapping his arm securely around her waist as he stands beside her.

"Two weeks old." He reaches over and smoothes the cotton of the toe on the one piece suit his little boy is dressed in murmuring his thoughts out loud. She nods in soft agreement beside him.

"He's probably going to want another feed before seven and then, hopefully he'll settle for a few hours like he usually does." It was true that Edward had so far taken the liberty of being asleep almost every night between the hours of seven and about eleven but then things changed. Some nights he could be fed at eleven and wouldn't wake until after three, other nights he remains awake that whole time more than perfectly content to just sit with his eyes wide open, not even crying. Cora was taking the brunt of the lack of sleep, namely because she had been advised, and indeed liked to, breast feed Edward, the problem was it meant that Robert was no good when he needed feeding. That was all fine but added to the fact she didn't like Robert not getting his sleep—he needed to do some work whether he was staying at home or going to the office after all—she was becoming easily overtired.

He'd worried that having Phyllis back for dinner but Cora had embraced it 'desperate to see some different faces' and Robert liked not only the thought of a friendship but also the hope that this trip would fulfil Phyllis' appetite for questions over little Edward. She hadn't stopped since the minute he'd stepped through the office door the morning after. It was getting to the point where he felt like he needed to go and measure him hourly just to fill Phyllis' inquiries about his size and face shape and one hundred and one other things.

"Phyllis is very excited to see him." Cora returns to the oven, checking what he can smell to be a steaming lasagna.

"I'm sure. No doubt she wants her own children in the future." Robert hardly hears Cora speaking, too focused on Phyllis entering the kitchen watching her eyes dart immediately to the carry case. Her face stretching into a wide smile as she leans over to admire Edward's face.

"He's a truly handsome little boy Mrs, er, Cora." She takes a seat at the table, turning the sleeping baby so she can see him as she sits.

"Thank you Phyllis. Robert tells me you're dating a teacher?"

"Yes. Yes I am. Joe." Robert steps forward at Cora's gentle pause by the oven. She had to be careful how much she was lifting, her hesitation with the oven gloves as she reaches for the oven door makes him step forward and reach for it himself. The doctors had told her to be careful with the weight she was lifting and he knew Rosamund would have placed the food in the oven earlier, the combination of the bending and the hot tray would not be good. "But he, well, he loves his job and sometimes time for me is limited."

Cora moves over to the table, collecting cutlery as she goes, and settles opposite Phyllis. Robert keeps his attention on the steaming dinner. The bubbles of cheese on the top ooze with steam, the edges of each little crater burned a slight brown. As he cuts through a face full of steam billows between the folds of meat and the rich tomato sauce spreads beneath the spatula as he settles it on the plates.

Cora had mixed up a nice salad and he grabs the mayonnaise from the fridge knowing she will want it on hers. Phyllis exclaims over the size of the portion amidst a large laugh from both women. He smiles but refrains from asking what it was all about—it was no doubt a joke aimed at him, or the peculiarities of men in general and he'd be annoyed to hear it.

Phyllis lowers Edward onto the chair next to her, tickling his feet one last time. They spend the following few minutes eating, all of them quite worn out from the day. Robert had been contemplating further business investments following his break with Gary.

"Do you have any children?" Robert was sure he could remember telling Cora that Phyllis didn't but clearly that had been a figment of his imagination.

"I've never been married."

"Well, that doesn't mean you don't have children." Cora continues, her mouth half full of food as she gets up for a slice of bread to absorb the tomato sauce from her plate. She clearly hadn't seen Phyllis' face at that last remark otherwise she might have taken that back.

"It has done for me. I was brought up very traditionally. Not that it would matter anyway. I can't have children." She looks down at the plate and then softly over at the sleeping baby. Her eyes closing in longing as she drops her hands from her cutlery. That was not something Robert had known, or even thought about. But the long look she gives him makes his blood boil, it seemed to suggest her lack of children is due to the attack when she was younger. He couldn't be sure without her saying it but it seemed likely that his assumption was the case.

The clatter of the knife against the granite side board tells him that Cora was equally shocked and no doubt feeling terrible.

"I am sorry. I shouldn't have-" She stumbles over her words with what Robert immediately recognises as an apologetic look in her eyes.

"It doesn't matter. You weren't to know. I've had worse reactions. And I've known long enough now to resign myself to the fact, twenty years ago I wouldn't have been able to be quite so calm." Robert notices the nerves though, years of living with a house full of women who liked to believe themselves entirely independent had taught him that when nails were pushed against each other and little sighs separated words they weren't as quite as content as they were making out.

"Well I am sorry."

"I was the oldest of five children. I spent a lot of time with babies as a girl, I was a natural at it, or so many people said. But life is life I suppose." Edward disrupts the discussion with a loud whimper before he starts to cry. His little arms stretch upwards, Cora stands from the table heading for him causing Phyllis' hands, which had already made a move for him to hover in midair as Cora leans over. But Cora, being actors notices and draws back, a sudden frown crossing her eyebrows.

"Actually Phyllis, could you hold him for a minute I need to grab something from upstairs before I feed him."

Robert is left watching Phyllis rock his baby in her arms, humming softly to him. He chooses not to disturb her peace and ask her now if it was her encounter that has left her without children, no doubt her mind conjured up dark thought soften enough without him adding to them. She is smiling softly at Edward, one hand tickling over his tummy. He continues to cry but Phyllis' seems unfazed.

"You want your mummy? Well, she's coming." She talks in a childish voice, standing slowly so she can rock him a little better. "Sir, you shouldn't stare, I'm not sure your wife would like it."

"It's Robert in my house, and you should call me so at work really but you seem unable to do that. And I wasn't really staring, not like that. I was admiring how good you are with Edward and thinking about how much of a waste you having no children is."

"I thank you for the compliment but I would still feel more comfortable if you didn't admire. This is all strange enough as it is."

"Elsie, my last secretary has remained a family friend and I would like that for you Phyllis, if you'll allow it."

"Let's not bully her into it hey Robert?" Cora wafts back into the room a blanket in hand and a bottle. "She might not want to be friends with us." He turns purple under her sharp gaze and despite the fact he knows she's only teasing he can't help but rethink what he had said—maybe he had been in the wrong. "I thought I'd use some of that mix the doctor recommended, saves me having to disappear for a while and feed him, I don't want to miss all the conversation now I finally have some company that hasn't got Crawley blood." Her eyebrows jerk in his direction with a grin.

She fumbles with the kettle but eventually gets it full and hissing away in the corner. She crosses over to Edward, lifting him from Phyllis' hands.

"But this plan of mummy's will mean you will have to wait for a while. The water has to cool." Edward quietens a little on seeing Cora's face as she rocks him in a way she knows he likes. "And I think daddy should do the washing up, what do you think?"

Phyllis helps him load the plates in the dishwasher while Cora paces about in the hallway trying to keep Edward as calm as she could—he clearly couldn't understand why he was with his mother but not being fed.

"Actually Robert. Make that kettle into some hot drinks Edward needs changing so I'll feed him while I'm at it. You and Phyllis pick a game and we'll both be back down soon." He was about to say he would change him but he can already hear her footsteps on the stairs, the crying of his baby drifting further from his ears.

"Maybe I should go. I feel like I'm an inconvenience when you've got such a young baby to be looking after."

"You're not Phyllis. And the company is greatly appreciated by Cora."

It isn't more than half an hour later that Cora joins them back in the living room, and places Edward in the bouncer. He and Phyllis had spent a further half an hour discussing the various men that had showed their faces as potential business associates—Robert always thought it worth while knowing how each had treated her as she'd escorted them from the foyer downstairs, it gave a dimension to their characters that he could easily have missed.

Robert finds his thoughts drifting easily from all the middle aged men as Cora reappears. His mind is far more actively occupied admiring Cora. Her hair was pulled up out of her face in a sleek ponytail, her pastel pink blouse made her figure look beautiful because of the darts that narrowed the shape. Her skirt was a pencil one, in a soft cream colour. But the one thing that made him smile just that little bit more was the soft muslim she holds between her hands gently daubing Edwards mouth occasionally. A drop of Edward's dribbles have landed unnoticed on her blouse which perfectly added to the image of Cora for him.

She swivels on her knees, pulling the bouncer a little closer to the settee edge as she turns to speak to Phyllis.

"When I was upstairs I was thinking Phyllis that maybe you might accept the offer to be one of Edward's god mothers."

"Well I-"

"You can have a think. I don't want to force you. I just thought it might be nice."

"More than nice I think." Phyllis also shifts herself to the floor, clearly sensing that Cora was unlikely to move onto the settee when her baby was on the floor. Robert joins them, taking the pack of cards with him, they can easily their game on the floor.

"So you will?" Phyllis reaches forwards and tickles Edward's toes again.

"Yes. Yes I think I will but only if you agree Robert?"

"Of course. Of course. I'm in no position to cross the woman in my life. You see Cora might appear like an angel but really-" They all burst into a collective laugh as Cora kicks him gently.

"All I've done is get him well trained." Phyllis laughs and they dissolve into conversations about past experiences with dates and their present other halves.

* * *

Saturday was usually a good day. A day that usually involved the a trip somewhere with Sybil and possibly Edith and Mary. Most importantly thoght, a Saturday always involved a day with Robert.

But this Saturday, was none of those. There was no Robert—he'd been whisked off to a meeting in Scotland and Sybil was predictably getting as ahead as she could with her revision. Despite it being a year before her exams she had some in the coming June for the additional subjects she's had taken up this year. Edith was out, with Rosamund as it happened, the concerns over her wellbeing in the last month had been recognisable to Rosamund as they had to her and Robert. Rosamund wanted to try and support her and bring her out of it before going to the doctor, she said it was possible. Cora found herself too tired to interfere and today she was quite clearly alone with Edward—exactly how she'd spent every other day of the week.

Her recovery was now well on track and the doctors were pleased with Edward's weight gain. All was going smoothly and yet she couldn't help feeling like today was going to be a disaster. She knew it was just being without her usual comforts on a Saturday but somehow the sensation wouldn't seem to shift.

She falls back against the settee as Edward finishes his feed. He stares up at her, his eyelids closing softly and his nose twitching.

She is adjusting him so that she can rub his back gently when she hears the front door slam shut behind someone.

"Robert?" The girls were never allowed to slam the door, it was a rule of the house. Robert was usually very good, but sometimes on really bad days he slammed it.

"No. It's not Dad." Mary has found herself to the doorway. "But I am here to talk about Dad."

"Oh?" Cora feels a stupid panic that she tries so hard to suppress. Anything with business and Robert away did worry her a little after what happened with Jane. It was stupid though, she knew she could trust Robert. The last year had proved that.

"Yes. Just because you tell each other everything does not mean you have right to disclose my secrets to him." She was furious and Cora finds the little strength she had left for all this kind of thing leave her. And look at her, another baby, another twenty years of this.

"What secret?" She dearly hoped Edward was going to be more like his youngest sister and a lot more willing to be cooperative.

"Don't be absurd Mum you know which one." She had a rough idea that was true. There was only one thing she and Mary had been discussing recently that had been serious—her fertility. But she couldn't be entirely sure, that was all only a secret from Matthew anyway. She's sure Rosamund had worked it all out.

"Mary. I have a one month old baby. I've had an operation and I'm worn out. What are you taking about?"

"My operation. You told Dad."

"Mary, I didn't tell him so much as he guessed there was something up and I'm hopeless at keeping him in the dark."

"Well, you should learn to keep him in the dark." She stares hard at her daughter. This wasn't something she wanted to discuss at this moment. Things being kept from anyone was a sore topic. Not that her own past experiences was what was foremost on her mind. What was more worrying was Mary's attitude.

"And you're still using that method in your marriage are you? Keeping Matthew in the dark."

"I don't need you telling me how to run my life Mum."

"I'm not trying to. Never have I suggested an alternative method of marriage, I've merely raised my eyebrows at your chosen one." Cora had a good inkling that the way Mary was treating this issue was different from the other aspects of her marriage. She was keeping this from Matthew not because she really wanted to keep secrets but because this particular thing would bring to the forefront a previous lie. Mary's fertility problem had come about because of an infection, an infection that she couldn't have got from Matthew because he was clean of it—Doctor Clarkson had checked him for it when he knew about Mary. The only conclusion was therefore that Mary had been with another man. Any other mother would assume an earlier boyfriend but Cora knew of none. Coupled with Mary's reluctance to tell Matthew it was clear this had all happened when she an Matthew were already involved.

"Mum-"

"You know what I think Mary? You came here this morning to take your anger out on me, not really because you are cross with me for telling your Dad but because you're still angry with yourself. I'm not an idiot Mary. Matthew is clean, you've had to have an operation to remove the problem so there was another man. If you're refusing to tell Matthew about the operation it means you were involved with said man when you shouldn't have been."

Edward chooses that moment to dribble a generous amount of milk onto her shoulder, she gently lowers him into the little play den that she'd moved into the lounge, unsurprised to see his eyes sparkling with what in an older child would be called mischief.

"Just because you know Mummy had forgotten to put the muslim on her shoulder and was talking to your sister you're causing mischief." She tickles his tummy and his legs rise and fall his hands reaching out to try and touch her.

Mary has moved from her powerful stance in the doorway to sit looking rather dejected on the settee. Cora joins her, siting softly by her side.

"I'm not asking you to tell me who Mary. Or when. I was just pointing out that I'm not silly." She rubs her back gently, as Mary drops her head.

"It was Tony Gillingham, a year before the wedding." Cora's arm drops picturing easily the man who made his money in banking but was by his roots a viscount. Just like little Edward, just like Mary in fact, Tony Gillingham had a family name that dated back hundreds of years. He and Mary had known each other years, he had been a boarder at the school Mary and the girls had attended as day students.

"Oh?"

"Yes. It was at that reunion party at the school. He-" Cora needn't hear much more, she'd heard a brief stirring in the press, and from Rosamund, that Tony Gillingham was rather admired by the ladies, and had a certain way with them. "I was tempted I suppose. I've only ever been with Matthew and it was at the stage when I didn't know what he wanted and, well-"

Cora keeps soothing her back, she might not agree with Mary's choice in this situation but she is her mother and therefore it is her job to comfort her whatever.

"But Matthew can't know Mum. He can't, I love him so much and I couldn't bear for him to look at me like he would."

"No. My sweet. Of course." It was useless to point out that if Mary had been sensible in the first place none of this would have happened, what was meant to be had been, minimising the damage seemed the next best thing and it appeared as though Mary was already doing that.

Edward starts gurgling from the play pen. His soft toy having fallen from where Cora had rested it on his tummy. She goes over to him, placing it back. His little fingers try to squeeze the paw of the bear between them but he can't manage it. What he does know is that when he kicks his feet the bear moves on his tummy.

"Can I hold him?" Mary had followed behind her, which she hadn't realised and was now gently leaning over the edge, looking expectantly from the corner of her eyes at her mother.

Mary had refused to hold her baby brother on every other occasion, always citing some excuse—he was crying or Sybil wanted to—so it's with some surprise that Cora finds her asking. She was well aware Mary had held off because she didn't want to grow too attached to the feeling of a weight in her arms when her own fertility was still awaiting clarification.

"Of course. Just make sure-"

"I've got his head, yes Mum I know."

"Sorry it's just...well, he's my baby and I feel entirely responsible. You'll feel that one day." Mary doesn't answer her mind entirely engrossed in the little boy she holds in her arms.

Cora feels a more than odd tingling settle over her as she watches her oldest child cradle her youngest. The way Mary gently plays with the soft teddy bear on her brother's tummy and then rubs it over his nose. The blue and white stripes of Edward's baby grow contrasting starkly with the bright pink of Mary's shirt. Her big girl and her baby boy. One entirely independent the other solely dependent. And yet that wasn't really the case. The likes blurred somewhere in the middle. Edward could breath and smile, cough and sneeze without her input while Mary still needed the comforting embrace and the unwavering love of her mother despite the fact she was far from a tiny wriggling baby.

"Have you heard back from the doctor about-"

"Yes. It's all looking okay. One last check next week and then, yeah." She breaks her eyes from her brother for one second. "He's very lovely Mum." Cora gulps softly, seeing the deep gratification Mary was getting from holding her brother.

"Mary, I know I said before about rushing into a family. It's not ideal. You should have more time to be young. Edith is finding it all very difficult. She probably hasn't said that the doctor has described her as mildly depressed-"

"But she has lost Michael. It's different."

"Yes. But it's very overpowering Mary whatever the circumstances. I was overpowered when I had you. Your whole life changes. Priorities shift, mountains seem to move. It's psychological as well as physical. The dynamics of marriage change Mary and unless you know what they are to begin with you and Matthew won't survive that change." She nods very softly, her fingers fiddling with the popper on Edward's suit.

"That is what Matthew said. He said we should find a pace and enjoy ourselves first. Be indulgent."

"I won't pretend I don't agree with him. I'm aware your feelings differ but please don't go behind his back and stop taking your pill or something. That will surely be a recipe for disaster." Mary laughs and shakes her head, tickling her brother's tummy.

"I think Mummy thinks I'm really thick Edward. Don't you? Um?" Cora knows that she is definitely teasing, her eyes sparkle and she even smiles. "I think we should do that dinner that you managed to ruin a month ago, Edward, with your arrival. That would be nice for Edith and maybe I could babysit Marigold on my afternoon off this week?"

"Well you'll have to ask her." Cora can't imagine that Edith will refuse but they both knew Edith would take it better if they approached her gently. She was already hating to think that she was a hindrance. She complained that she already was one, such a young mother—not knowing what to do. She wouldn't let anyone tell her she was doing absolutely fine.

"And I shouldn't have got angry with you earlier. You and Dad are very admirable in a funny sort of way."

"Funny?"

"Well. On the outside in public you manage to remain only moderately smitten with each other but alone, and with family well it is quite different. Little Edward has just woken the world up to the true Earl and Countess of Grantham." Cora isn't sure if she likes the world knowing who she and Robert really are. Not that any of it really mattered, she didn't think much about what others thought anymore. Scandal had come and gone at the time of their marriage. She and Robert had forgotten it all and moved forward. So different to how she had been about being pregnant with Mary. All the fussing over what Violet was going to say, what the papers might say. The worries over her own mother demanding to be present for the birth. But then she did realise that the beginning of it all had been the same. Her and Robert.

* * *

 _Cora twiddles her toes beneath the covers trying to conjure up a a warmth on the cool cotton. When Robert isn't in he bed she hated the eerie emptiness that floated mostly in the air around her feet. She shoves her arm beneath the pillow as she swirls her toes on the bedding generating a nice amount of friction. The soft cotton blanket she keeps on her half of the bed she yanks decidedly up over her, before burying her nose in the pillow, right at the bottom between the sheet beneath it and the seam of the pillow case.  
_

 _The washing powder she uses fuses in her nose with the cotton smell. The floral scent burns at her eyes a little and she pulls her nose away turning quickly to stare at the canopy of the bed. Warmth races up her spine and across the bed sheet as the movement causes a lovely heat to buzz like an electric charge between her skin and the linen._

 _She usually slept with nothing on, but that seemed like a ridiculous suggestion tonight so she'd rummaged through her wardrobe, passed all the silks and satins that made up her nightwear these days and instead had put on a nightdress that was well worn but very comforting. It was a long one piece with short little capped sleeves, a cupcake adorning the centre of the peach fabric._

 _It had been altogether unfortunate that Robert was having to take the evening at work. But that was how things went sometimes. A transatlantic call that New York had scheduled for their late afternoon was evening in England so there it was. Robert hadn't been sure how long it would take but she knows how downcast she'd sounded when he called an hour ago worried that he wouldn't be home before midnight and that she should get some sleep. She usually would have stayed for such a meeting, she was the company secretary after all but he and Bates had been adamant they would be fine. It would all be fine she knew if she didn't have a burning discussion to have with Robert that would now have to wait another twenty-four hours._

 _She drags his pillow from the other side of the bed into her arms, hugging the centre of it against her nose. It was childish she was well aware to want him with her so badly, to resort to some old nightwear just because he wasn't there. But then again, despite having lived in England for six years Robert had been her only constant companion in all that._

 _She rolls over and flicks the radio on, normally music would sooth her to sleep, particularly late night radio, the tunes were often calming._

 _The lyrical songs drift into a classical style before what must be about an hour later just electrically generated sounds. She finds herself drifting off to one of those tunes, the three four timing of the melody making it a waltz minus all the usual string embellishments. The sound mixed with the scent of Robert bleaching in her nose was enough for her to finally feel her consciousness slipping._

 _A draft on her back makes her shuffle the covers differently across her back. She couldn't stand being even partially cold in bed. She much preferred being as snuggled up as she could manage. She pulls at the sheets again._

 _"I know I'm very late but that's no reason to stop me getting into bed." She grumbles groggily his hand slipping over her hip and his nose nuzzling near her neck. "Go back to sleep my beautiful."_

 _Her eyes are already open though, her fingers toying with the arm he's draped over her._

 _"How was it?"_

 _"Sleep Cora." She rolls back over, embarrassed to realise she must have fallen asleep with his pillow beneath her. She finds his gaze easily enough and passes the pillow back to him. He pushes it beneath his head before cuddling her into his embrace. "Did it smell nice?"_

 _"Yes." She mumbles, her finger gently tracing his bare chest as she settles against him. He chuckles softly before kissing her hair. "Now, the meeting?"_

 _"It was fine. Everything is all sorted, there was just more to sort than anticipated." His finger toys with the nightdress she was quickly regretting having put on. "What though, is this?"_

 _"My nightdress." His hand finds its way beneath the hem and up over her back._

 _"I can see that. What I meant was, I suppose, that I don't think I have ever seen it before. It is rather-" She tilts her head sharply to one side._

 _"What? Mumsy? Old?" He closes his mouth his thoughts hesitating._

 _"No. Cora, you would never be any of those things. It was more that I thought it a surprising choice seeing as we've been trying for a baby. I mean we haven't been wearing anything much in bed." She rolls her eyes at his silly smirk, not that it was really silly, it was perfectly true after all. He nuzzles his nose over hers, turning her hips into the bed. His lips drop into hers and Cora realises subconsciously that her arm has lifted and her fingers tangle in his thick hair._

 _"A minute ago you were ordering me to sleep."_

 _"I changed my mind. But if you don't-" She taps her fingers on his shoulders, shaking her head very lightly. Typical Robert. He still panicked so much about her and what she wanted._

 _"I do want to. Very much. It'll save me having to cuddle your pillow after all." He laughs softly, his hand twirling the lengths of her hair around his finger causing gentle tugs to her scalp every time she lifts her mouth more firmly into his own._

 _He pushes her nightdress away, smiling softly into each of the caresses he leaves on her skin. The tingling she'd felt earlier with the friction of the linen against herself as she'd warmed the bed is nothing to the touches of pleasure Robert always managed to excite. There was a haze to these ones though, her body unsure whether to indulge when she'd been asleep not moments before._

 _She tries to reach for him, to be able to touch him but he's just out of her reach apart from the soft curls on his head. They had always been so wavy. Gentle sloping waves that she could trace along his scalp._

 _"Your hair is beautiful." His hands smooth unconsciously over her abdomen as he glances up to look at her. His eyes surprise her, she was expecting a darkness in them but instead she finds them warm but not dark. There was more of a smile hidden in their depths than desire. They sparkle with different colours and she sees somehow in the dim light the shade of his hair reflected there, around the edge of the iris where it is slightly darker she could see the brown. "I'd like a son with your eyes and hair."_

 _"Let's make the baby first." His expression turns away from her own, studying rather intently the flatness of her stomach._

 _"Robert." She tilts his chin back her way and she sees what she thinks is water welling in his lower eyelid, diluting the sharpness of the colours she knew were in his iris. "Oh darling, what is it?" He tries to support himself over her but he can't, his hand remains tracing her abdomen as he lies down beside her._

 _"We've been trying for a while now." She takes his hand in hers, gently tugging it back to abdomen. He tries to pull it away, but she holds it firmly there._

 _"We have it's true." She curls her thumb in the curve between his thumb and index finger, twiddling the strange excess of skin that day so taunt and allowed the flexibility of his thumb._

 _"And I'm just worried. It's been six solid months of trying and-"_

 _"Robert, these things take time."_

 _"I know, I know." He sighs heavily, his other hand brushing her cheek and temple. "It's just, I know how much you want this and we know it's not you if there is a problem. The doctor checked when you had your coil thing removed." She smiles gently, her hand toying with the stray hair by his ear. She chews at her lip, watching him admire her, wondering how uptight this was all making him. "I just thought maybe, I should go have a check."_

 _"I don't think we need to be that drastic yet. Everything about you works perfectly fine." She strokes softly at his chest again, trying to unsuccessfully coax him back into her arms._

 _"Cora you don't know that. Just because it seems to doesn't actually mean-"_

 _"Robert. I know it's all fine because I'm pregnant." His eyes widen and she is sure hers do to. She tightens her hold on his hand, looking down at where they are joined—over the third unspoken member of their family. "That was so not how I was meant to tell you."_

 _"Really?"_

 _"Yes. I did a test the other day and the doctor did a more thorough one today."_

 _"Today?"_

 _"I went after work." He lifts their joined hands from her stomach and kisses her palm. Then he leans back over her and rubbing his finger and thumb beneath her chin kisses her. She breaks away as a thought she doesn't like to much swirls in her mind. "You're happy though?"_

 _"Cora, of course. I'm more than happy. I was thinking it was never going to happen."_

" _You should clearly have more faith." She presses her lips back into his but just as she gets used to the searching of his tongue and finds herself settling into the situation he shifts away._

 _"You're happy aren't you Cora?"_

 _"I'm going to be the mother of your baby. I'm delighted." He sits up, shifting the bed linen so he can shuffle to lie with his face by her stomach. He takes her hand again kissing the palm of her hand and placing them over her skin. The layers and layers of thickness that were protecting the tiny being that had hardly started his or her life inside of her. By moving his fingers he kisses her skin instead—tilting his eyes up to catch her own. She chuckles softly as he gives up on his charade and crawls back up to her side kissing her lips. He pushes her to spoon beside him, his chest clean against her back. His far warmer arm runs beneath hers all the way to their clasped hands that sit on the newest member of the family._


	21. Chapter 21

_It seemed like a year ago when in reality it was just yesterday. Yesterday, very late yesterday he had become a father and now, now he was driving Cora and their baby Mary back home. Home to the grand house that would no longer house just the two of them but three._

 _She had Cora's tuffs of hair already for which Robert was relieved. A daughter born into this family certainly needed Cora's looks. But it appeared she had Robert's ability to time things wrong. Nothing could have been worse than the phone in his office blaring loudly through the strict meeting. Every share holder, every senior manager sat at the long length of table. The three or four people closest to him could probably hear Cora's words from the other end—the baby was coming._

 _He'd been a nervous wreck driving her to the hospital but now, driving her home, despite the nagging thoughts that told him he shouldn't be so relaxed (that meeting still needed to be completed before the financial year could truly get off to a good start) but he didn't care. All he could focus on was glancing in the rearview mirror with a childish look on his face admiring Cora watching over their baby._

 _"You both alright in the back?"_

 _"Robert you know we're alright. You've spent more time looking in the rearview mirror than at the road. Focus." Any other husband might have taken offence at such remarks but the raise of her eyebrows and the twinkle in her eye means Robert knows differently. Not that she didn't have a fair point, he should focus on the road._

 _Home appears soon enough and he takes the car around the back, it would save parking on the road and Cora negotiating the steps outside the front. He parks right by the back door and rushes to unlock the door. He's happy to find Cora stays put while he does all this—she had a habit of being stubborn and disregarding his cautions. The only conclusion would be that she was feeling more tired and no doubt aching more than she was letting on._

 _"I'll come back for Mary, let's get you inside." He takes her hand and helps her to the pristine white door with the arch of trellis wrapped across it beginning to show the first signs of spring—a soft pink rose bearing its head. She doesn't grumble about his help as he helps her right through to the lounge, further proof of her less than calm state of mind._

 _Arriving back at the car and Mary, he is faced with the complicated system of how the car seat fitted—it had taken him some time to get it in place—but it appeared that taking it out without waking his sleeping daughter was to prove far more of a problem._

 _The fastening clicks out from the plug alright but as he tries to weave the belt back through the various slots he'd pushed it through he finds himself battling with the plastic framework of the carrier. He doesn't think he can get the belt more twisted—it appears to have looped itself through the same slot twice—when he jumps back, somewhat startled by the cry of little Mary._

 _"Sshh my little one. Mummy will hear you and then Dada will be in trouble." He gives up on going about the process sensibly and instead takes his baby daughter carefully from within, he could sort the car seat later. He places his hand easily behind her head, goodness his splayed hand was almost as big as it, as he lifts her right out, removing from her legs the dangling straps. He cushions her in the crook of his arm as he had watched Cora do._

 _He slams the car door shut and watches her little eyes widen and then soften as she tries to take in his form. He was well aware she couldn't make out his face, she probably couldn't actually see him, she was far too young but it was always nice to think she could._

" _Shall we try and find your mummy?" Mary only cries more in response. "Alright then little one. It can't be that bad. It can't. It definitely can't when your mummy and daddy love you so much already." He's unsurprised when Cora hurries out the living room at the sound of them. "What did I tell you Mary? Here's mummy panicking again." Cora rolls her eyes as she takes Mary easily from his arms, not struggling like he had when he'd taken her from the nurses arms, to hold her in the right place. A mother's instinct he supposed._

 _"I'm sorry she woke. It was the wretched car seat."_

 _"Robert. The stopping of the motion of the car would have woken her a little and she's due a feed. Don't panic." She pats his shoulder gently, before leaning up to place a kiss on the back of his head, just below the end of his hairline._

 _He goes back to the car, Cora would need the carrier later to rest Mary in, most of the items they had purchased had been left in boxes, only the truly essential had been opened which mean the bouncer they were going to have in the sitting room for resting Mary in was not ready yet._

 _Strangely enough without the pressure of trying not to wake a sleeping baby he wiggles the carrier free easily enough and locks the car._

 _Entering the living space his finds himself somewhat diverted. Cora was sat on he settee, her back to him, Mary clutched against her chest as she fed. Robert finds himself blushing profusely. The image of them kissing on their wedding day hanging uncomfortably over the fireplace beneath the reflection of his red cheeks in the gilded mirror. She'd protested when he'd first suggested having that photograph placed there but she'd eventually given in, what did it matter what visitors made of it anyway?_

 _"Do you want anything to eat? Or drink?" He places the carrier behind the sofa by his feet not trusting himself to walk around and face her. He was a grown man, he shouldn't be so easily overcome by the sight of his wife nursing his baby._

 _"I would." Her eyes catch his in the mirror before she drops them to look at Mary, stroking her rounded cheek. "But first, Mary and I would like very much for you to come and sit with us." He hesitates slightly but he's fully aware she's not going to let him go. He steps awkwardly around the arm of the chair, focusing with rather more concentration than was necessary on the edge of the rug and remaining upright._

 _He finds his seat beside her but refrains from wrapping his arm around the back of the cushions as he usually would, instead keeping his hands firmly in his lap and gaze trained on her neck and above, certainly not lower._

 _"She's got such a pretty face hasn't she Robert?"_

 _"Yes. Yes. It's like yours." He touches the edge of her cheek, feeling the soft curve of her cheek bone beneath the layer of smooth white skin. It was tinged with pink these days, the coming of Spring and motherhood having a good effect on her._

 _"Robert, you can't know that unless you look." He feels a stupid anger balling itself in his fingers._

 _"I looked in the hospital and in the car on the way home."_

 _"Um, but a natural reaction to me saying Mary's face is beautiful would be for you to look at it again. Instead you kept your eyes focused on my ear." She takes one of her hands from beneath Mary, the one nearest him that hadn't been supporting Mary's head, and pushes her hand in his lap. Her fingers catching on the treads of his trousers as she searches out his fingers. "So tell me, what's so fascinating about my ear?"_

 _He growls softly, her eyes and words piercing through the firm barrier he was trying to keep in place._

 _"Your ear isn't...I mean...it was you breast feeding. It...it's beautiful but I find it a little odd." He searches her eyes for some kind of understanding but instead they drop from his, her hand also moving straight back to Mary whom she proceeds to shift into a new position._

 _"What's odd?" She takes his hand again, he looks down at it, turning it in the light and watching how the two rings shine._

 _"It's such a motherly gesture and yet, stupidly, foolishly I've only ever through of your breasts as something that bring you...well..." He falls short, pushing away the images of how he touched her and the ways she responded to those touches._

 _She smiles into a laugh, a short puff of air from her nose the only giveaway that she was trying to hide her amusement._

 _"Robert, that won't change. I'll still like you doing that, when we can again."_

 _"I'm not worried about that. Just, in my mind, everything will sit strangely. Touching you there when Mary-" He breaks off again, stupidly embarrassed. "This is all silly. This is a ridiculous conversation to be be having less than a day after our daughter is born."_

 _"Robert, there's nothing wrong with your thoughts or feelings. You have concerns. They are different from many other father's perhaps but they are yours and I will respect them." He twists his fingers over her rings. Rubbing the cold metal beneath his thumb and warming it._

 _"I have other more sensible worries too." She raises her hand from his and pats his cheek._

 _"Of course you do." She laughs her soft gentle laugh, the one that sounds like honey and he finds himself smiling. "Now, why don't you kiss me? I don't believe I've had more than one soft peck on the lips since I gave birth."_

 _It was true, the arrival of his dear mother had rather put a stop to any hope of time alone just the three of them immediately after the birth._

 _Willingness with a smattering of fragility was always the emotions that Robert seemed to find when he kissed Cora. She was easily willing, her lips and tongue perfectly ready to set their own pace and usurp his example but at the flicker of something new there was hesitation._

 _He pours all he words of love he hadn't been able to find in the last few minutes into his lips, in the touch of his palm on her cheek and ear, the slide of his tongue over the round lips and the eventual pressing of it between the seam of them. He senses her hesitation as she lets her lips be parted, unsure if she should let herself be taken in._

" _You're a wonderful mother already Cora." He pulls his mouth away, breathing his words onto her bottom lip, her top still pressed awkwardly to his. He shifts properly away, for the first time dropping his gaze from her face to Mary. His embarrassment at the warm stirring he felt from her kisses finally forcing his eyes to the star of the show._

 _Little Mary blinks up at him from where she is cuddled against Cora. She squirms as she stops feeding. Robert doesn't see Cora adjusting one of her blankets to cover herself, he forgets all about his earlier anxieties and gets utterly lost in his baby's eyes._

 _"And you're a beautiful little girl whom we both love so very much already." Cora shifts awkwardly by his side and he contemplates reaching for Mary, but she seemed so much more content in her mother's arms than she was when she was in his._

 _"Robert, could you take her? I need to-" She gestures somewhat wildly at her bare skin. He lifts Mary gently, trying not to disturb her. "Don't look panicking Robert. She can't hurt you. And you've already got the hang of holding onto her I can see that."_

 _"It doesn't feel like I have." He felt all the time as if one of her bones was lying wrongly, or his finger was jabbing somewhere it shouldn't._

 _"Have more faith." She leans over and kisses his cheek. "Isn't that what you always say to me when I question how I ever deserved you?"_

 _"Um, but that's because everybody else is sat around questioning how I could ever, the dull boring Robert Crawley, ended up with a woman like you."_

 _"Well then, have some faith in yourself." He kisses her forehead but turns his attention back to his little girl._

 _Her nose is like a tiny button, perfectly formed but miniature. Everything about Mary was in miniature; the soft curls and the brown eyes, everything was small but perfectly detailed. Her fingers and nails, all ready to be of use but at the minute just thin and baby soft. The new chapter of his life was quite easily the most fragile and Mary was the littlest person he'd ever felt the urge to fight for whatever the circumstances._

* * *

"You get some more sleep, I'll go." She murmurs her agreement beneath a hearty yawn and he pats her stomach gently.

They'd had rather a bad week, Edward had a bout of cold and he was awake every night crying. Clarkson said it would pass but that it was likely his ears being a little infected was causing his distress. Cora had stayed up with him most of the last week usually saying that him getting work was important. But tonight was Friday and it was only fair that he took a turn. Cora had been up already to feed him and she still had some recovery to do and she needed her rest.

He grabs his dressing gown from the back of the door and heads down the hall. The nursery was still where it had always been, the teddy bear wallpaper lined the walls and the rocking horse he had enjoyed as a young boy stood over by the window.

Edward had his arms and legs wide, kicking and punching his mouth wide open and his cheeks and forehead red, glistening with sweat and tears.

"Come to Dada come on." He lifts him from the crib right out in front of him, careful to keep his head firmly. He continues to cry though which was strange, he had liked in the week being more vertical as he rested in someone's lap. "Now then, I think you need a change. We can't have you smelling bad can we Edward." He tucks him easily under his arm as he grabs the sudocream that Cora had left on the mantelpiece from its place, everything else would be in the bathroom.

Edward has stopped screaming with is a start but he still whimpers softly, his little eyes creased with tears.

Entering the bathroom, Robert is rather overwhelmed by how Sybil seemed to emanate from every surface. It shouldn't be surprising he supposed when she was the sole user of the bathroom but it still took him by surprise. Tucked away in the corner is the changing mat and nappies of Edward. He lays him down and tickles his podgy tummy as he unfastens his little one piece.

The doctor had said he was growing very well considering his early delivery and was very happy with his weight.

"You're podgy aren't you Edward, um, just like your Dada." He gurgles softly, his tears slowing as Robert rubs the teddy bear over his nose.

Changing him was something Robert had panicked about when Cora had first handed him Edward a week after they were home and asked him to change him. But he'd found the knack of it easily enough, unlike Sybil, who was the last baby he had done this with Edward was far less of a fidget. The teddy bear falls from his tummy as he kicks his legs against Robert's grasp. Robert puts it back, Edward was able to move his head towards it but that was the extent of his ability and probably would be for another month if he remembered what the girls had done.

The doctor had been particularly pleased that Edward was able to hold his head up for a short amount of time and that his eyes were clearly following things, it put his development right where it was supposed to be.

Changing complete he lifts Edward back into his arms at which point he immediately screws up his face and whinges softly.

"No more crying Edward. We can't have you crying." He rocks him continuously as they descend the stairs, if he was going to cry again Robert would rather he didn't wake Cora.

Entering the cool living room, moonlight trying to peak its way between the curtains, Robert chooses to settle himself on the settee, first putting the television on one of those music channels in the hope it would sooth Edward.

The glow of the screen fills the room and Robert shifts so he faces away from it, looking at the wall opposite the television; family pictures, book and games strewn over the surface.

He lies back on the settee, resting his head on the arm rest, Edward stretched across his chest. He wafts the teddy about again but Edward's eyes were already closing to the gentle sways of classical music. The crescendoes changing instantaneously to soft timpani before sweeping back into a trumpet section.

Robert found it all rather stress free as well, which was what he needed after the last few months. Edward on his chest, moonlight trying to spy on them, Cora asleep upstairs, all was perfect. His eyes fall shut and he has to force them open, he couldn't risk falling asleep and Edward falling off of him.

He swings his legs of the settee, sitting up with Edward cradled once more across his chest. But the scrunch and wrinkle of the tiny nose told Robert that he much preferred the previous position.

"Almost as fussy as your Mama aren't you." He rearranges the cushions on the settee, laying two between the back of the sofa and himself. They were fluffy ones—Cora always said cushions should be homely and soft—he wriggles to the edge of the settee placing Edward on the cushions he'd laid down. Edward looks up at him, his eyes wide with wonder and then they close, Robert tracing his hands over his tummy as he seemed to like.

His own eyes shut for longer and longer periods as the violins and cellos fill his ears. His arm feasts awkwardly over the top of the arm of the chair, above his little Edward's head. A last line of protection.

"Shall I tell you what this is Edward? A camp out. Like a sleepover." He barely gets the words out, his eyes falling shut as his hand rises and falls on the tiny tummy as Edward breathes deeply.

He knows that some hours have passed when he opens his eyes to the light streaming in through the curtains, the calming music from what he thought was moments before no longer humming in the background.

He blinks his eyes against the brightness, he and Cora had thick curtains in their room for this very reason, and stretches out his arm. That's when his eyes fly open. Cushions. Definitely cushions but no Edward.

He looks to the floor first, nothing, before he jumps from the settee jarring his muscles, they clearly hadn't enjoyed the 'camp out.'

"Look Edward, I think Dada has woken up." That was Sybil, sat on the stool in the corner of the room, rubbing circles on Edward's back. Cora had clearly left Sybil to wind him while she sorted breakfast or something. She seemed to have developed a very good technique, supporting his head with her forearm and that same hand holding the little cloth Cora used to daub his mouth while the other hand rubs his back.

"You're very good at that."

"Well he's a very good brother to sit in his sister's lap, aren't you Edward." Robert just watches them, not quite feeling ready to try going up the stairs to change while his legs still protested at the very thought of it.

"Sybil, there's been something I've been meaning to speak to you about."

"Oh?" She stands up, repositioning Edward so his chin rests on her right shoulder, that hand protecting his head as the other rubs perfect circles.

"Mum said you've got a boyfriend."

"Is that a problem?"

"No. No, of course not. Just don't rush into anything. I know your sisters are older and no doubt they've told you things but it doesn't mean-"

"I know Dad. I'm fifteen. Legally too young and all that if my boyfriend is older. I'm not running off to get married. Chill." Her eyes roll just like her mother and he can't help but smile.

"Sorry. You're right, I know you are. Who is the lucky lad in question anyway, your mum never gave a name."

"Tom Branson, Timothy's son." Robert knows who he is alright. He had been a constant in the house for years, since he was little in fact. He was now sixteen, sitting his exams in the summer but to think he had come to Sybil's birthday party back in December, and slept over in this house had him sorting back through his mind to that initial conversation with Cora—when had she first mentioned this?

"How long have you been going out, or whatever it is you kids say these days?"

"Since before Christmas."

"So he was your boyfriend when he slept over for your birthday?"

"Yes but Dad-" He quietly leaves the room, in search of Cora. Not that he's calm inside. Oh no, his blood was racing for his heart and then into his face, reddening his ears and his cheeks. Fist closing with the stirring of adrenaline.

He wasn't angry with Sybil not really, but Cora had known about this for some while, she had said so when she'd finally told him a week ago which meant she'd let Tom sleep over, in Sybil's room no less when's he was underage.

"You're awake. I must say you and Edward looked rather...is something the matter Robert?"

"Tom Branson is the name you wouldn't tell me and added to that you allowed Sybil to have him sleepover in this house? In her room?" Her hands immediately fly to her waist, her eyebrows raised in what Robert knows full well is mock exasperation.

"She is fifteen. And you said it yourself. Tom. This is Tom, Robert, not some random boy. Besides I think it's cute." He growls internally, of course he should have known that his wife found first love all so sweet. So innocent and charming. Why he had no idea, maybe because her first love had been so wrong and dark—she wanted the fairy story to exist somewhere.

"I'm going to pretend the hormones are still confusing you because she is underage Cora. She is-"

"Our baby girl who we are going to have to let go of one day. And there is no way anything happened between them Robert. Don't blow everything out of control!" She half throws the bowl of cereal she has made herself onto the table in an angry huff as she falls down into the chair. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to reassess his own boiling feelings. Maybe he was taking it too far, but he still sees Sybil as his baby even though he has another little one. "And as for hormones, I'm well aware we haven't had sex in months but there's not much I can do about it." She brushes passed him to the sink to fill the kettle, her teeth crunching at cereal.

"Cora, I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to say that."

"Yes, it was when you're the one ranting and raving like a child." She shoves the kettle on the at mad and flicks the switch. Her hand curls up over her eyes as his scratches at his head. She swivels slowly, leaning back against the work surface. "You knew what, let's not argue. We're both short of sleep and uptight. But Sybil is not your problem. We need to get Edith content, the doctor booked her in for counselling yesterday, he's not happy with her levels of depression."

"Why didn't you say?" It was true things with Edith's psychological state had been getting progressively worse. Clarkson had her down as borderline depressed on her last check up and had prescribed something he hoped might help. But clearly that wasn't the case.

"Edith didn't want me to and I feel responsible. With Edward I haven't been able to give the time she needed from me." Robert sees it before it happens. His arms are firmly around her waist before her he sniffs even once. Her forehead lands on his chest and she sobs softly.

"It's not your fault Cora."

"I know it's not. But, you know, timing is all wrong for Edith, what a surprise." She laughs a sad laugh and he kisses her head just as Sybil appears in the doorway holding Edward. Cora takes him and nods her head in Sybil's direction as she leaves the room with her head low.

He does as he's bade, when hadn't he in the last twenty five and a bit years? Following Sybil he catches up to her in the hall and grabs her hand. When she swivels to look at him he can't find the words he wants to say that match what she wants to hear so he just leans forward and plants a kiss on her forehead. She breathes a warm smile, which is all he needs to know he is forgiven.

* * *

It had to be drizzling. Today couldn't have been as sunny like the rest of the week. The only day she was truly going out for herself for an afternoon of gossip England had to be itself. It couldn't seem to put on its veil of disguise just for half an hour while she at least made it to the destination.

Driving in the city was something she tried to avoid, there was no use of it after all when the tube service went everywhere anyone might want to go. But, with a young baby and a pushchair, on her own, it really wasn't suitable. Far too many escalators and stairways, plus the pushchair was without fail an obstacle on the train. Whereas to drive was far easier, she only had I get to the office as it was, where she could park for free. Robert had offered her Branson and the company car a week ago but a meeting across the city had come up and Robert had received a great amount to stick in the past for arriving by tube or driving himself and she was well aware today's meeting involved Robert giving a speech about the establishment to a room of businessmen one of which he was hoping to join the team in Gary's position.

She pulls up in the car park just as Edward begins to whimper in the car seat beside her. She couldn't believe he was just over two months old, and certainly her body didn't feel like it was that long ago she'd had her operation.

Clarkson had finally given her the all clear to resume intercourse with Robert yesterday but she hadn't told him so yet. In truth she was far too worn out, and Edward had only just finished recovering from his cold and she had a lot of sleep to catch up on.

Added to that she'd been babysitting Marigold most of the last few days do that Edith could escape with her friends and days with the magazine. The doctor had said it would give her a better appreciation for Marigold when she was at home. Rosamund had been helping her that much was true, but two babies on a lack of sleep was tricky.

Throwing her coat on she braves the winter showers, pulling the new pushchair from the boot she is suddenly reminded that she'd never put the things up before and no doubt it was harder than Robert had made it look. It was a rather special pram as it came with one set of framework that could be made up into two pushchairs. One would allow Edward to lie on his back looking at her, the other was for when he was bigger, sat forwards, legs swinging.

She moves the small bag of supplies that she had filled for Edward—having not been a mother with a young baby in so long she had forgotten how much there was to cart about—and it was overflowing. She pulls the pram towards her and a small piece of paper falls from beneath onto the concrete that was doused in a fair amount of rainwater.

She lunges for it, having recognised a swirl of Robert's handwriting.

Flipping it over she finds a rather smudged diagram (due to the puddle) of the pushchair and a few bullet points in Robert's swirling hand of how to assemble it. She smiles to herself, it was just like him to foresee a situation she hadn't thought of until she's arrived at the destination.

His diagram and instructions are easy enough to follow, certainly easier than an instruction manual that took five minutes to find the English section. And it was signed with his swirly name and a kiss.

She wheels the pram around to the passenger door lifting Edward from his carrier. He squirms and cries as the rains hits his face, his nose and eyes crinkling up. She loads him into the soft bedding, his muslim and test bear following. He quietens as she strokes his cheek softly.

"There's a good boy. And you've got to be good because we are going to meet Phyllis and if you're naughty she won't want to be your god mummy anymore will she?" He lifts his head, and turns it the way he thinks his teddy has fallen. Cora never thought much about what he was doing and whether the girls had reached similar milestones at the right times what she odd knew was Edward was doing excessively well. She could still remember the little milestones charts she had when Mary had been born, checking almost daily that nothing Mary was or wasn't doing was cause for concern and indeed she knew that a baby should be able to life their head for short moments during their second month—she had committed that one to memory when Sybil had shown an inability to do it.

The cafe was a little French patisserie two streets from the establishment. It was hidden down a little alley but she and Robert had frequented it for lunch back when they'd dated in the beginning. It was an easy, private way to spend time together out of the office without having to hurtle across London. She'd given the directions to Phyllis a month ago and she had since visited a few times and agreed it was beautiful.

Cora did have a horrid feeling that this meeting was going to be more than just another little outing for Phyllis and her to become closer and discuss the christening. Something about the way she had kept at the plan suggested she had some news to share as well.

Cora finds herself slipping through the door to the chime of the bell at exactly half past one, which pleases her no end as one thing she hated was people being late. Looking up to the bright eyes of the waitress, Daisy, she spies Phyllis already craning her neck around from the window seat.

"Mrs Crawley, how lovely to see you it's been a while." Daisy was the daughter of the couple who had run the cafe for as long as Cora had been visiting, she had practically watched this girl grow up and take on the responsibility.

"Yes. Well, lots has been happening."

"Of course." She peers over it look at Edward. "Congratulations. And if it's not impertinent to say so I think he should be rather pleased he got his mother's looks." Phyllis laughs from the corner.

Finally finding herself seated Cora breathes a sigh of relief while Phyllis' fingers dance immediately over Edward's cheek. It's then that Cora spots it, the little diamond glistening softly in the dim light of the afternoon.

"Oh my Phyllis, has he proposed?" She look up suddenly, a warm smile spreading over her face. She only nods and Cora takes her hand, admiring the cut of the beautiful stone. "Oh that's such lovely news. When are you thinking of having the wedding?"

"This summer. July probably. But I wanted to talk to you. I was wondering if you might help me organise it. And I've found this place in Yorkshire just a village or two away from where Joe grew up in Locksley. He says he'd visited the place a few times so I looked it up and they do weddings." Cora feels herself closing her eyes and raising her eyebrows. She doesn't need the next few words, of the print out Phyllis pulls from her pocket to knew the destination in question is Downton. "But I thought you would know, managing one yourself, if big places like this do small weddings. Like really small weddings." Cora can't resist biting her lips as she hides her giggles.

"I know a little about this particular place as it happens. And I'm confident they will do a small event."

"Really?"

"Yes. Better still I can give you the telephone number of the gentleman you need to contact." She reaches for a phone, Phyllis still seemingly oblivious. "Tell me how much detail did you take in when you visited the website?"

"This and that, an Earl and Countess like yourself own it."

"So you didn't visit the shop part when you can purchase a book on the house?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"The book you'd have found would have had this picture on the front." She turns her phone to face Phyllis. A picture of Downton full on the screen. Her and Robert stood in the foreground. Phyllis rubs her hands over her eyes, shaking her head with embarrassment.

"How on earth did I not realise. I mean-"

"Robert and I don't exclaim over it. The Abbey is like a second home to us. We adore it. But it has to be profitable so we open it and do the weddings and things. And the title we have we try our very best to bury hence you didn't notice it was the same one." Their sandwiches and coffee appear and Edward starts murmuring from his seat. Phyllis takes the opportunity to play with him and his teddy and he wiggles his toes and follows the bear with his eyes. They discuss the christening and Phyllis stands by her word to be a godmother. Cora knows she can get on with the preparations now that Phyllis had agreed, there was always so much to do, even for that simple occasion and if she had a wedding to help with, one at Downton none the less, she had yet more on her plate. Carson always sent through forms, cheques and details of all upcoming weddings for her to sort through and verify anyway. She and Robert were even occasionally asked to attend them by people who seemed to know far too much about their lives or had visited the house a lot as young children and thus felt the Earl and Countess were a part of their life.

"There was something else Cora, if you don't mind." She lifts Edward from playful slummer to sit on her lap. Holding his hands she bounces him on her lap.

"Of course not." She kisses the top of Edward's head as he bobs. She keeps her eyes away from Phyllis' sensing the tone of voice she'd heard her use at the house when she'd said she could have no children. It seemed as though this might be to do with that again.

"Only Robert thought you might be interested in helping me with my trust. I happened across some information on the Internet a while ago. And I believe we share a somewhat similar past. When I said I couldn't have children it was because I was attacked in my early twenties." Edward stops bouncing and he falls back against her tummy as he lets go of him, a short gasp rushing through her lips. She finds Phyllis' soft eyes. The gaze that looked so sweetly at her son. The woman who seemed to love him despite the fact there was no reason for her to love him.

"You're right that I am...I was. But I don't remember, I don't know if Robert said-"

"He said nothing. He didn't want to tell without your permission." Cora would not be too busy at any other time, with any other person, to smile over the sensible nature of her husband and how respectful he is but at this moment all she can think about is how the woman before her has had the ability of conceiving her own children taken from her. A woman who clearly so wanted children and would clearly be an excellent mother.

"Phyllis. I don't know what, I mean, my experience was bad enough but-"

"I'm not a victim Cora. I was once but I've got past that. I run a charity group in London, we tour schools talking about our experiences and offering help to those who need it. I want to expand. Have representatives travelling across the country. I want you to join me. A different experience is valued and as I pointed out to Robert-"

"My title and connections help." She nods meekly. But Cora was thinking about everything. She'd been craving a purpose for a while now, this seemed like the perfect deal.

"You don't have to-" Cora flips out of the way she is staring, like a dazed animal across the cafe.

"That wasn't what I was thinking about. I will help. I'll do the talks and be patroness. But I also know someone else who will willingly patron. Someone far more in the limelight who could add real force to a really important issue." Phyllis grins from ear to ear and even goes to the trouble of squeezing her arm. Cora smiles but taps her nose when Phyllis asks who—Cora knew with all the conversations and letters that would will have to be written and signed the lady she had in mind was a good six months away from giving the all clear, if she even wanted to.

Cora spies her coffee still steaming in the mug, her salad looking a little limp on her plate so she leans over Edward.

"Why don't you sit on Phyllis while mama has some food?" She passes him over and Phyllis rests him slightly more traditionally in the crook of her elbow leaving one hand free. "Now, we need to get back to the important topic of the day. Which is how Joe proposed and what dresses and things you're thinking about."

Phyllis laughs bouncing Edward on her knee. Cooing softly at him. He gurgles back as she pulls some funny faces and Cora finds herself welling up. She closes her eyes to try and dissipate the tears; lifting the steaming mug of coffee to her mouth to hide the begins of them. This was what the lady she had in mind for patron needed to see. She needed to see Phyllis had a backbone made of steel. She could stand up from one of biggest crimes on earth, tarnished for the rest of her life, and still be desperate for the greater good.

"Phyllis." She cuts her of halfway through her description of the dinner out and something or other. "I want you to come with me, to meet the lady I have in mind for patron."

"I will if you tell me whom."

"Her Royal Highness the Countess of Wessex.* Her husband, Prince Edward is a friend of Robert's." Phyllis takes her eyebrows and shakes her head. "You can't back down now. You said you'd come if I said whom, I've told you whom and now you're coming. They're due for a trip to visit Edward anyway so it shouldn't be too hard. Now back to the proposal." Phyllis continues shaking her head but Cora lifts the cream bum she'd ordered for dessert to her mouth, grinning widely. Edward, Phyllis. A possible 'job' for the next few months. A wedding and a christening. It was looking up in the world.

* * *

*The Countess of Wessex is another lady of the world whom I rather admire. For those of you not so familiar with the British Royal family she is the wife of the Queen's youngest son, Edward and in my opinion gets very little credit for doing an awful lot! Edward is a similar age to Robert in this story so I thought it believable they might have gone to school together and would very likely know each other due to Robert's standing in business and society in this story. Neither of the Royal couple will actaully make an appearance in this story—they are real people and one can never do a real person credit but Sophie may well be mentioned a few more times as this plot develops.

Thanks for all the reviews this week! Following my disclosure that there was only going to be 26 chapters last week I now have 31 planned and I think I might be taking it to at least 35! Credit for my sudden brainwaves has to go to _zaibi12_ and _granthamfan_ who both offered me support in very different ways this week!


	22. Chapter 22

AN: With this chapter I reach over 150,000 words for this story which is many more than I've ever got to before. I'd like to thank you all for the support, and I will get back into thanking you all for reviews some time in the next three weeks, but I'm still very busy! This chapter is shorter, but I hope you enjoy it. More drama is on the way in the next few chapters.

* * *

 _The handrail is cold beneath her palm, the metal conducting the heat away from her hand. He stands at the bottom, no doubt he'd seen the doctor walk downstairs sombrely and had guessed. He holds out his arms wordlessly and she falls into them, the tears coming easily._

 _This was certainly not where she had envisaged being six months after her daughter's birth. Not in America. Dealing with an ill father and a distraught mother, Harold being his usual helpful self. And Mary rolling on the floor and doing a little army crawl to shuffle about—she hadn't quite mastered crawling yet. But the result was still the same, upturned rugs and all her mother's cupboards being threatened with baby fingerprints._

 _Robert was the only thing holding it all together and at this second he was quite literally holding her up. He cooked without asking, went out for food, kept Mary occupied and quiet. She couldn't ask for much more. And she certainly couldn't ask for a better pair of arms to fall into as she steps from the stairs, the only image in her mind the one of her father's last smile before his eyes had closed softly, his breathing just coming to a stop. It was expected of course, the doctor had said there was no hope, that the second heart attack had all but finished him. The first had been bad enough for Martha to miss Mary's christening so when the second had come Robert and Cora had booked the first flight out. Robert was keeping up with the business over the Internet and phone but Cora knew that they needed to get home right after the funeral, he'd missed a lot._

 _But that was what was coming, days in the future, him holding her was the present and it was the only thing she is letting herself feel, his strong arms supporting her body when her legs feel totally unable to. Robert was her only rock now. She had been so close to her father and now he was gone. The realsation makes her grip Robert's shoulders harder._

 _"Where's Mary?" She looks up finally, his soft expression is refreshing and helps her to flick the last tears from her lashes._

 _"She's in the living room, hopefully not causing too much havoc." Cora heads that way. Entering the expansive living space she had adored in its peaches and oranges as a young girl that now no longer existed, her mother having changed the colour scheme to a purple one._

 _Mary lays with her face up on the central rug, a plum purple made from sheep's wool that was ever so fluffy. She is rolling from side to side her fingers pulling at the rug and her toes kicking. Cora scoops her up, ignoring her cries and Robert grabbing at her arm._

 _"Cora-"_

 _"I need space Robert. I need to feel like at least somebody wants me and needs me."_

 _"Don't use Mary-" But she loses him, ignores him, as she marches back up the stairs, a bawling Mary in her arms._

 _She had seen grief play out in a multitude of ways and she was well aware that hers, so opposite to Robert's closed in darkness when his father had died, was a more dangerous type. She wasn't somebody who could feel that darkness, instead it was more consuming. It raced in her blood but not quite at a high enough level to make her see the darkness. Instead it lingered, threatening on the edges of her vision and her thoughts but never polluting them entirely. The result being she felt the most desperate urge in the world to block every image of her father from her mind until enough time has passed that the blackness wasn't black but a misty silver. The only thing she could think of at this minute that would take away that threatening blackness she had experienced just moments before. Robert's arms._

 _"I'm not using Mary, she needs her nap. And while she's napping..." She lowers her into the old cot her mother had found for Mary and placed in the old nursery. But rather than playing with her as she usually would when she puts her to sleep she turns around and takes Robert's hand, dragging him back with her down the corridor to the bedroom she had grown up in as a girl and was now staying in as a married woman and a mother._

 _She ignores his protests as she pushes him towards the bed, fingers tugging at his shirt. The buttons fall open beneath her fingers, her nails sliding inside and touching his skin. Her other hand claws unrelenting at his hair, pulling his mouth down to hers._

 _Her tongue finds his easily enough, the sweet taste easily guiding her to the places that make him kiss harder. All she can feel is him, his hands, his lips. Everything is him. The English countryside scent that emulated from the corners of his mouth and the pores of his skin. It mixed with the expensive silks of his suit jackets. It was all Robert. All home and right now that was what she needed. The fog was lifting from the sides of her thoughts replaced instead by Robert._

 _Her back hits the bed as he groans into her mouth. She pushes his shirt from his shoulders but when she wraps her legs around his waist he stops kissing her and pushes himself off of her._

 _"Cora, I won't...we can't, not today. It's wrong." She grabs frantically at his trousers trying to tug him back to her but the darkness seeps over her, her hand slipping as he steps away, into the shadows._

 _The ache between her ribs sucks at her throat, dragging air to her lungs in struggled gasps. She can't see any further than her own expanse of body, her chest heaving beneath her chin, her legs kicking like a child as the water scorches a path down her cheeks._

 _She feels the pressing of a hand to her hip, the smoothness of the touch against her hurting muscles. But she can't see the face. The face is shrouded by the blackness, threatening to rearrange itself into the image of her father's face at that last second. The second when she was talking, halfway through a sentence, telling him...about to tell him._

 _She squeezes her eyes closed, more water slipping out from between the closed lids. Her body rocks slightly and she knows he must have climbed onto the bed behind her, a sudden warmth floating down her back and around her waist. She stutters a harsh whimper, his fingers moving her hair from her neck so he can press his nose there._

 _"I'll stay with you Cora. Always. But I don't want you regretting your decisions." His lips caress just below her ear, she can't taste him, she can't even see it but she doesn't need to, more love was conveyed by him in that simple gesture than any of the passionate kisses they'd just shared._

 _"He doesn't know...he died while I-"_

 _"He knows you loved him very much Cora. You flew all this way, with Mary so small just to make sure he would see her and you before he passed." She shakes her head, trying to turn and face him, but he holds her firmly at the waist, rubbing his hands comfortingly on her hip and stomach._

 _"He was very grateful and he clearly adored Mary. But I didn't tell him about...I was so close and then-"_

 _"Sssh my Cora. I'm sure it doesn't matter. He knew everything important." She shakes her head profusely against his chest as he keeps trying to soothe her, dropping kisses across the back of her head._

 _"He didn't...he didn't know he was to be a grandad again." She breaks down again, but this time no comfort comes from his hands. His hands stop dead, a cold draught catching her neck as he moves away from her. She can feel his gaze from above, looking down on her._

 _"Cora, does that mean...?" She nods slowly. Her fingers twitching on the bedclothes, tracing the squares of the quilt. A heaviness filling her chest._

 _"I shouldn't have told you like that. Sorry."_

 _"I'm not bothered how you tell me Cora. That's wonderful news." She turns over, tucking her face beneath his chin. The same had happened the first time she realises, with Mary she had blurted it out when she hadn't meant to, perhaps next time she would get it right._

 _"I know we haven't really been trying but well...you know I haven't been back to have my thing fitted. And-" He laughs against her forehead and she stops._

 _"You don't have to explain to me. I know." She smiles softly, but immediately regrets the upturn of her mouth, today wasn't about being happy. He tilts her chin up to him though and presses his lips to hers._

 _"You're happy?"_

 _"Of course I am Cora. Of course." She pushes her lips softly into his again, but he pulls back immediately, their mouths hardly grazing._

 _They lie like that for hours. The day turns to night outside, but the darkness in her mind stays at bay, even if her heart weighs far more than it should. Mary is fetched from the other room at one point and she lies with them, rolling about and kicking her toys._

 _Cora admires her innocence. Who wouldn't? She was oblivious that those surrounding her did not quite have smiles that reached their eyes, it was only their jaws that were flexed. She cuddles her lovingly but when her mother appears at the door and says she's going down the town for some food they all agree to go—lifting Mary easily into her arms._

 _Halfway through the main course some hours later she puts her cutlery down, looking to Robert as she turns to her mother._

 _"Robert and I have some news. It's early but I think maybe today is the right day. Dad was such a happy man, so loving and..." Robert's hand rubs on her shoulder, reassuring her. "I'm pregnant again." Her mother congratulates wildly, her brash voice, for the first time Cora can remember, being a comfort. A reminder that beneath it all everything would be alright. Life would move forward for the rest of them._

 _"I'll definitely come for the christening this time. And I've yet to see what you've done to the house." The rest of the evening is spent with the past, memories, Isidore seems to sit with them as they each recall there favourite and least favourite moments. Even Robert sits listening quite enraptured to the tales of bbq's and beaches, football tables and chocolates. Drunken nights and perfect speeches. His habits are talked over too, the way he swirled his coffee, the specific layout of the kitchen that seemed a capital offence to destroy. Her father might have passed but his memories were still fresh, his soul was still very much breathing and if all else fails she knows she has Robert and her baby girl to distract her._

* * *

She can hear the voice. Her mother's voice echoing in the empty hallway. Her and Robert's room was a good distance from the hall but she could clearly hear every word her mother was exclaiming to Edith and Rosamund.

"I don't care if they had a bad night and Edward was awake the entire time. Cora hasn't seen me in forever she should be here to greet her own mother." Cora closes her eyes again and tries to block out the sounds. It wasn't difficult, her senses were heightened now, bracing themselves for Martha bursting into the room which means that she is far more aware of Robert beside her.

His breathing is deep on the back of her neck, his arm is still draped over her waist, the other beneath the pillows, supporting her head a little. His chest is squarely pressed to her back, the lengths of his curls tickling over her skin as his chest rises and falls.

She realises with a distant trepidation—there was always a chance her mother would feel it her right to fly into the room—that the covers are only half on the bed and while they covered her to a fairly decent extent, only Robert's feet kick at the top of the duvet, the rest in a sorry heap and his naked body fully visible.

"And this woman who's the godmother. I don't think I've ever heard of her before."

"She's arrived then." Robert's hand tugs her hip backwards into his, her head falls backwards and his lips immediately find her neck. She'd finally told Robert that she'd been cleared for them to be together last night, she didn't feel like she could put him off any longer and as expected he'd taken her quite literally for which she was more than thankful, now that Martha was here they'd exhaust themselves just keeping her from killing people, the result being very little time for themselves.

"Um, and we're already in trouble. Mother thinks we should have been up to meet her." He kisses along her shoulders and Cora tries to ignore the bubbles of warmth swelling in her belly.

"That might work to our advantage. She can't get much angrier surely?" She tries to take her focus away from the soft spirals of pleasure he evokes beneath her breasts and the sloppy kisses he leaves on her spine. She tries to keep all her senses strained on the voices downstairs but she's deceiving herself.

His hands wander naughtily and she can't help but turn her body to his so she may kiss him properly, her own hands curling around his neck.

"Robert-"

"Don't even think about saying no Cora. You want me twice as much as I want you." She can't disagree with that comment when his hand is already tickling between her thighs. His finger pressing at the wetness she'd been ignoring. She bites his shoulder as he lifts her knee over his hip, easing his finger deeper inside her.

"That's doesn't mean we should-" He ignores the beginnings of her pleas sealing her breath with his own, his tongue dancing with hers.

She finds the tufts of his hair at the back of his neck and shifts herself onto her back. He pushes her back into the pillow, his fingers stopping their pleasure so he can keep his lips to hers.

"Robert..." Her voice surprises her, clearly their long period of abstinence had effected her more than she thought. He laughs against her cheek, the breathless growl clearly amusing him.

"I thought you said you wanted me to stop earlier. Which is it to be?" He bites her ear between words and Cora shivers at the mix of his gentle caresses over her bare skin and the shimmers of disturbed air as he whispers to her which both manage to mix with the rushing of heat and blood to the point his teeth had made contact.

She squirms beneath him, taking one of her hands on a gentle, light, trail down his back, dipping into the curve of his spine. She feels the goose pimples erupt across his skin, the fleeting warmth of her fingers confusing his cool back. The other she lets wander down his front, her fingers swishing in the tufts of chest hair and then down over his stomach to his hip.

She holds him there, her fingers occasionally rubbing over the softer skin of his bottom, skin that was as smooth as Edward was all over. She grows tired of tracing her fingers on his back, his nerves having become habituated to her touch, and returns her hand to his cheek and neck shifting her body to lie further beneath him.

"Robert-" He murmurs what she thinks is her name in response, but his mouth is so eagerly enjoying the taste between her breasts that she isn't sure. And indeed, she rather liked him kissing her there. Her heart beat felt so much more like it belonged to him when he touched her there. It was as though any troubles with her heart, physical or emotional were sucked from her skin as he licked and kissed. He kisses to her belly button, all the while Cora keeps her fingers playing in his hair, desperately trying to focus her mind on anything but the whispers of love escaping from her insides.

She fails miserably, a long drawn out sigh, rattling from between her teeth when he crawls back up her body, plunging his mouth against hers. She tugs his shoulders, keeping him there as she wraps her arms around his waist, immediately feeling his weight against her.

She groans softly, his mouth thankfully muffling the sound that might have alerted her mother.

He lowers himself inside her, careful to keep his lips pressed to hers. Once he's filled her completely, he kisses below her ear softly, smoothing his tongue just beneath the lobe.

"You're beautiful Cora." She blushes profusely as his murmur, one of his hands still caressing her breast. She massages the back of his neck, as he is moving his lips back around to hers as she pushes her hips up into his.

He takes her lead, returning his lips to her mouth to muffle both their desperate moans as he finds his rhythm with her.

When his lips move to her neck she feels her body twitch, as if anticipating his growing discomfort. She can feel how close he is, the short pants on her neck a clear sign of his desperation and the quickening pace of him inside her a sure giveaway.

He seems to realise he is far closer than she and adjusts his body, his mouth falls to the spot between her breasts again, suckling and licking over one and then the other before returning to that central spot. She loses it then, his hand caressing the base of her thigh and his love spreading inside her she finally unravels. She grabs a tuft of his hair in her fist and turns her head into the pillow, she really couldn't bear the thought of her mother having something more to breathe down her neck about.

He takes a heavy sigh, more like a groan against her neck, a harsh vibration rippling up her throat before he slumps against her side, his nose settling by her ear. The pattern of his breathing keeping brushing at her skin while her heart pounds blood just below the surface. The result was a lightheaded feeling where she could hear her heart beat in her head.

"That was beautiful." His fingers clasp hers, winding them together so that their palms touch. "And I must say it might help me get through the ordeal of the next few weeks with your mother."

"Does that mean you're expecting no more naughty adventures until she leaves because I was rather hoping-" She's cut off by some exclamations from the hallway, her mother.

"Half an hour I've been here and still no sign of either of them I'm afraid I'm going to have to go and wake them, this is frankly absurd when they knew I was coming!" Robert's eyes widen opposite hers and all of a sudden she feels exactly as she had when her mother had arrived in England for the wedding, entirely terrified. They had walked on eggshells then, Cora putting her parents up in her house until the transfer to Downton and Robert had disappeared home every night, they'd barely held hands for a week.

"Stay there." His whisper brings her back to the present. He slides from the bed, leaving her back cold, the only warmth is that remaining on the sheets and pillow. Cora watches his retreating figure as he opens the bedroom door, making a last tie in his dressing gown.

"Good morning Martha." There's a brief pause in which Cora imagines Robert is kissing her cheek. "Cora is a little tired I'm afraid, she shouldn't be long, but your little grandson caused rather a to-do last night. How about I go and make us both some breakfast and then you can meet him." Their retreating footsteps can be heard down the hall and she smiles to herself, Robert really was quite superb sometimes. All the time.

Her phone buzzes on the bedside table and she reaches across surprised to find Robert's name on the message alert.

 _Forgot to say I love you. X_

She sends a heart back and tosses her phone back onto the side, rolling herself over in the bed to lie with her face buried in his pillow, his smell filling her nose almost as if he is still there.

* * *

Hats. Lilacs and pinks, blues and greens. All he seems to be able to see is hats. Rows and rows of glorious hats, each of which had a different female head buried beneath it. There was one hat he knew exactly who it belonged to though. The orange one with the feather that must have come from an ostrich poking from the top was Martha's.

She was unmissable on the marmalade share she'd chosen for her one and only grandson's christening. Not that she was someone whom he often lost sight of, whatever her clothes, she had a tendency to be heard.

Robert could still clearly remember listening to her from the other side of the world the morning after he and Cora had first slept together all of twenty-nine years ago. Even from that distance she had been loud and brash. In any closer terms she was quite frankly mad.

The English weather has stayed away though, and here they all are spread across the lawn at Downton, Edward in the family christening smock being passed from one pair of hands to the next. Mostly being returned to Phyllis or Cora in between where any approaching tears were brushed away and much 'cooing' occurred.

"Robert!" The marmalade glove was high in the air, golden purse being wafted above the sea of hats as his mother-in-law makes what can only be called a beeline for him. "What is this I hear about Sybil having a boyfriend? The chauffeurs son?"

"Well, it's true but-"

"She is underage Robert. I hope you realise all sorts of dreadful things could come of this." Robert just nods in agreement, he had said the exact same thing after all. But he can't help but find Martha slightly hypocritical, she had after all planned to marry her own daughter to a complete scoundrel and yet she was anticipating her word would be gospel on the life of her granddaughter. "And Mary, why did you not tell me she was trying for a baby?"

Robert whips his head around without thinking about it, searching for the navy blue ensemble Mary had chosen.

"What? Who said...?"

"It's as plain as the nose on your face. She's avoiding the alcohol, cooing over every child under the age of five that walks her way and she's clinging to Matthew as though just touching him will make a difference. If she's not trying for a baby it's because she's already pregnant." Robert looks to her again, little Marigold crawling on the grass by her aunt's feet, Mary leaning down to pick her up and rub the grass from her dress. She wiggles and squirms until Mary places her back on the ground and sure enough as she reaches behind her for her drink it is orange juice she holds, no alcohol.

Robert doesn't reply, too busy seriously thinking to himself if Martha had noticed his lack of alcohol and his fastidious removal of it from his diet at the moment. Surely if she'd noticed everything else...? What was far more worrying to him though was that she had delved about the house and found his tablets, he wouln't put it passed her, and if Cora knew, that would be very bad.

"Yes. Well. I've spoken to Edith and I must say I'm pleased to see her looking so happy. Cora said there was a time when it wasn't going so smoothly."

"She had a mild depression but that was to be expected and Rosamund was rather a star looking after her."

"So I've heard. But, I wondered if you could tell me more about a gentleman called Bertie Pelham?" It amazed Robert how Martha, within less than a week of being in England knew every conceivable thing about all his three daughters, half of which was a mystery to him.

"Well, he was the doctor at the hospital who was in charge of Edith when she gave birth and later he worked closely with Cora and I over Edward." Martha nods, her gaze fixing on Edith. She nods to herself and her mouth open and closes, her brow twitching as she tilts her head to one side seemingly putting all the facts together—it was an expression Cora had inherited or learnt from her mother.

"He likes Edith certainly. I'm not sure about her feelings yet. But he's certainly thinking about her. That's a heads up Robert. He sounds like a noble sort of man and seeing as he must know Edith's past I imagine he might approach you first." Robert eyes widen with discomfort and complete bemusement, Martha had never met this man for crying out loud. "Don't stand there with your mouth open Robert. It doesn't suit you." She makes to move away and Robert can't help but puff his cheeks out ready for the long exhale of air and the big gulp of juice he was going to replace it with. "Oh and one last thing Robert. You didn't fool me that morning I arrived and you appeared from nowhere ready to make me breakfast in your dressing gown. I had rather hoped Edward's arrival in the world had taught you and Cora to be more careful but clearly you're still just as much like rabbits as you ever were." She waggles her eyebrows leaving him stock still, alone, holding a full glass of red wine, his cheeks an equivalent shade of only consolation is she hadn't mentioned the tablets, so hopefully he was safe there.

He sighs, thoroughly disgruntled and takes a long swig of the liquid. The taste of orange juice had always sat nicely in his throat and he holds it there for a second before he swallows. He knew he should tell Cora but he just couldn't bear the look that would pass over her face, the worrying she would do until he was off his medication. There was still also a chance that the situation would have to be treated more severely, Doctor Merton was particularly worried about the position and vastness of one of his ulcers and had warned more than antibiotics would be in order, time at the hospital was not something he would lie to Cora about.

"Problem?" He almost jumps from his skin again. What was it with women of Levinson blood? Although he had to admit this lady of Levinson blood was far more to his taste.

"Nothing important." She raises her eyebrows in question—what was with that look as well, these women appeared to be all eyebrow.

"I doubt that when you look as though a tonne of bricks has just-"

"How does she see through everyone and everything. She knows more about the girls than I do-"

"She's your mother-in-law and American. The combination makes her all knowing. Now, I think it's time for the photographs." She takes his hand, gently manoeuvring the glass from his grip. "And there's no need to pout. You're not trying to get me to kiss you." She laughs at her own humour and kisses his knuckles before lifting Edward from Phyllis' arms.

The christening outfit had always amused him. It had been in the family for hundreds of years. Made from Honiton lace, just like the royal family's, it was stunning but surely only for for a girl with all its frills and well, lace. Surely they should have forgone the tradition and let his little boy be baptised in a one piece or even, maybe, some trousers. He had raised this argument but for the first time in some while he has found himself on the opposite side of the fence to both his wife and his mother—usually it was only one of them at a time. Cora had voiced that she wasn't having a son, her miracle little Edward baptised in anything but the outfit Robert himself had worn, and their other three children. She had cited it as unfair to treat him differently. Robert was also fully aware that Cora rather liked her traditions. Most of the Viscounts of Downton had been baptised in the outfit and she wasn't about to change that.

"The photographer just wanted us first." She takes his hand after she's repositioned Edward to sit with his face facing forward. At his now mature age of four months he can hold his head steadily and when laying on the floor liked to lift his head and shoulders when on his tummy, it was rather like how a meerkat stretches his head, except Edward didn't stand to do it.

He does it now, turning his head passed the frills on the neckline of Cora's lilac dress to look at him. The photographer starts discussing things with Cora but Robert keeps his gaze focused on his little boy, the way his feet were kicking beneath the frock and his hand trying to grasp at the long string of pearls Cora had adorning her neck. Photographs for the newspaper are taken easily enough, they just involve a fair amount of posing. The more natural ones involve a little more effort, as they try not to look like they were trying.

The photo of the godparents was easy enough. Phyllis holds Edward with Rosamund and Bates standing neatly on either side. Cora had been hoping Edward would lie happily in Bates' arms—to balance the photograph—but Edward hadn't liked that plan so much.

The rather larger group photo takes far more time to assemble and Edward seemed content to fidget and push in Cora's arms, desperately trying to reach for the ground, his arm waved in that direction, his thick little fingers trying to grasp it. When he doesn't get his way he kicks furiously and begins to cry.

Cora tries bouncing him on her hip but he keeps whimpering. More large tears rolling down his cheeks. Robert takes him from Cora, walking him away from the large group of people as the photographer continues to reposition them. He lifts him high into the air in a big motion and the movement is at least enough to stop his tears mid flow. He doesn't start again, which is a plus. He grabs a stray blanket from the marquee and sits him on it for a moment tickling him as he rolls to and fro on the floor.

His little fingers find the rattle Cora had left rolled in the blanket and he tries to grasp it but doesn't manage to pick it up. Robert places it on his tummy as was where he liked his toys and he kicks his legs his hand waving up and down as he bangs on the toy and hears the tingling noise of the inside.

"Now then. Shall we go back and join the others?" He lifts Edward and the rattle from the rug and positions him so that the rattle can rest on his tummy and he can continue to play as he walks him back. Cora appears around the corner, clearly coming in search of them and Edward clearly recognises her, trying to grasp the rattle once more as if to prove his skill to her, he drops it instead by her toes and she laughs, rubbing his cheek.

"There's a good boy. Now, let's get these photos finished so you can go play again." She doesn't take him from his arms, which surprises him, she so liked to hold him in these kind of situations and it always seemed right somehow, to have the baby in his mother's arms.

They find their position easily enough—as if the gap in the front centre wasn't a large giveaway. Edward throws his rattle to the floor at the first sight of the camera and everybody standing in perfect lines. When he goes to transfer Edward to Cora arms she shakes her head, reaching down to scoop up the rattle.

"No, he should be in your arms for this one. You are his wonderful father after all." She smiles brightly, right to her eyes, her hand resting on his upper arm. He smiles briefly down at Edward, admiring the blue eyes that were Cora's.

"You have a wonderful mother too, don't you Edward." As if he understands he tries to grasp the rattle again, only for it to end up on the floor. He coos softly, his mouth opening and closely in agreement.


	23. Chapter 23

AN: I appreciate the story may seem like it's on a little bit of a slow part at the moment but by chapter 25 it all starts up again with some big drama in the Mary camp. I'd appreciate you all staying with me and your reviews make my day. I hope you enjoy this one.

* * *

Cora knew she had promised Sybil this dinner but after everything that was happening she kind of wished that she hadn't.

Wedding plans were piling up around her as she tried to help Phyllis and then there was the fact she was going to be a grandmother, again, early in the new year, seemed to weigh down on her. She'd hoped she had persuaded Mary out of the idea but it didn't seem so.

Added to that, the only day Sophie and Edward could fit in a visit to see them (Cora wanted to ask Sophie to be Parton of Phyllis' charity) was two days before the wedding and the pair of them had expressed their delight at the prospect of a whole day together. Edward was desperate to meet up with Robert and no doubt discuss golf or something and Sophie was desperate to see baby Edward.

She knew she should have expected it. Robert and Prince Edward had been friends since school and it had been some time since they'd seen them. In the phone call she'd had with Sophie last week she'd said that her and Edward had laughed when they'd found out the newest Crawley was named Edward 'we thought you must have forgotten we existed' but Sophie was only teasing. The pair of them had known for years that if she and Robert did ever have a boy that was one of the names they had been thinking of.

"Did you get the chocolate cake I said Tom liked?" Sybil comes into the kitchen, spinning once in a full circle, her eyes taking in every detail of the room, checking that her plans (she had written them on the little blackboard hung on the back of the kitchen door) were being executed exactly as she wanted.

Cora had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that if that had been any of her other girls asking for a special dinner with particular courses for one of their boyfriends back when they'd been as school she would have turned them down. Yet, here she was, following by the letter the instructions her baby girl had left her.

"I did. And I also got these..." She opens the freezer drawer to show Sybil the Magnum ice cream she'd found in the supermarket. Sybil smiles broadly and looks as if she's going to hug her but then her phone bleeps in her pocket and she's dashing away leaving Cora stood with the cold draught of the freezer on her legs and a shiver running up her spine.

Her possible upset over Sybil's seemingly sprinting lurch into adulthood before she'd so much as taken a single exam is cut short by the sound of the baby monitor crackling to life—Edward's screams erupt down the speaker and she tosses the ice cream back into the freezer, and heads for the stairs.

As she approaches the nursery door, Edward still wailing she calls out that she is coming, as if he would understand! Despite his tears Edward still lays in the crib doing his all time favourite new activity—grabbing his feet with his hands and letting his body tip in one direction before letting going and rolling right over. When he senses her there, he kicks his legs and lifts his hands to her face.

"Yes Edward, Mama is here." She lifts him onto her hip where he continues to think tapping his little hand on her head and shoulder is a good idea—it didn't hurt of course, why would it? But it was certainly amusing. "I suppose you're going to interrupt Mama's cooking for your feed, um, let's hope Sybil doesn't find out." She tickles his tummy and he buries his nose on her shoulder.

She rocks him by the kitchen window as he feeds, keeping an eye on the paella and the suckling of her baby. It doesn't mean she misses the front door when it bangs shut though. The clatter of keys onto the hall table and the thud of his shoes on the bottom step of the stairs fall into exactly the same rhythm as they had for twenty-six years.

Equally comforting is the brush Robert's hand makes across her back, his lips kissing the back of head as he leans over her shoulder.

"Good day?" He kisses her cheek.

"Much better for coming home to my wife and baby." He strokes Edward's cheek and his little eyes dart up to his daddy. "What time is Tom arriving?"

"Half past six. And you must be nice. No cross questioning him, they're only young, it's all very likely to blow over."

"Really, is that what you think Mum?" Cora closes her eyes and exhales deeply as she reopens them.

"I'm sorry Sybil-"

"It's alright. You clearly meant it, you just weren't intending for me to hear it." She slumps down onto the chair by the table.

"Sybil, don't be cross. It's just, I know what being young is like. Surrounded by school friends and following celebrities in magazines or Twitter or whatever. Everything seems to so simple and fun. But well, the boyfriends I had in those years passed by quicker than they came."

"But Mum I'm not you. Tom isn't just a boyfriend. He-" Robert suddenly turns from the sideboard where he'd been diligently preparing the starter.

"Hold on. Cora did you just say you had boyfriends at secondary school? You never told me."

"High school. And yes, three I think. But like I said all finished within five months at the most." Sybil suddenly grabs her arm, and she has to tense her muscles to keep Edward in place.

"See mum. Five months. Tom and I have already been seeing each other for six." Cora takes a deep breath, it seemed her youngest daughter had been taking lessons from her eldest on how to be contrary. She flounces from the room in a whirlwind of dark hair and perfume leaving Cora stood feeling decidedly old nursing her five month old.

"Who were these boyfriends then?" He's chopping the peppers and tomato with rather more force than necessary. Clearly everybody wanted to have a go at her today.

"Oh I don't know. The first one was a John I think, it lasted a week. The second was called Tony or something and that was three months, we cuddled a lot but it snowed that year so I was cold all the time. The third I do remember more. He was called Ricky, short for Richard. He had dark hair and dark eyes, was quite broody. That lasted what five months but he was my first kiss. Does that satisfy you?"

"Dark hair and dark eyes..." He appears to be mumbling to himself but when she looks up she finds his gaze on her, watching.

"Yes. I changed my type, is there something wrong in that?" She rolls her eyes as he shakes his head.

"Goodness no. Clearly I wouldn't be anywhere if you hadn't."

"Robert. I was sixteen. No girl knows what she really likes at sixteen." He places the salad bowl in the centre of the table, rummaging in the fridge for the prawns and melon.

"Well I am pleased." She rolls her eyes again, shifting Edward so she can rub his back.

"Now it's your turn. Come on, I want to know all the girlfriends." He groans and doesn't say anything. Still methodically arranging the cutlery on the table.

"You don't."

"Why, because you can't remember them?" He runs his hand through his hair, a true measure of anxiety and she laughs to herself. Teasing him was so much fun. He seems to accept he is losing and comes to stand in front of her. He leans in towards her so she steps back to lean against the side board. His hands rest either side of her waist against the granite.

"I can remember a little. But the truth is Cora none of them and absolutely none of it mattered after you came along." He kisses her forehead. "You knew my reputation when you arrived at the office if I remember correctly and it is true that the four girlfriends before you had all been my secretaries and the longest any of them lasted was just over six months." She strokes away the creases on his forehead, sliding her finger through the soft hair resting on top of his forehead. She can't resist running her hand further through his hair and down his neck. He presses his forehead to hers so she doesn't have to reach too far, Edward was still balanced in her arms after all. He adjusts his position to kiss her only for the doorbell to chime and Sybil's racing footsteps to echo down the hallway.

Cora finds herself taking another long deep breath as she walks out into the hall. Tom was already placing his coat on the rail and his shoes in the pile. Nothing was different to how it was when he had been here as a boy aside from the fact he was not a boy anymore. He was a handsome sixteen year old who was kissing the side of Sybil's forehead the moment he had sorted his belongings. It was true that the moment he sees her and Robert stood in the doorway he walks over and extends his hand but the somehow protective nature he took with Sybil was rather more inset that Cora had thought. He seemed far more serious about the whole thing than she had imagined any sixteen year old boy would be about his first girlfriend.

"Mr Crawley. Mrs Crawley. My dad sent this." He finds his bag and hands them a bottle of wine which Robert takes graciously before reminding him to call them by their first names. Sybil then proceeds to drag him off to the lounge and even Robert arches his eyebrows at that and taking Edward follows them.

Cora finishes the laying of the table only to be interrupted by Robert half a minute later.

"Sybil kept raising her eyebrows at me to leave and there was a deathly silence with me in there so I left." She shakes her head. This really was one of those things you might see on the sitcom Outnumbered.

"Put Edward in his bouncer and then go and tell them dinner is ready." She starts serving the main, it would clearly be better for them to get the stilted conversation that will exist around the table over with as quickly as possible. Then the two couples could do their separate things.

Tom and Sybil appear a minute later, the former gushing over the extensive array of food. Robert places Edward in the corner in his bouncer before joining them at the table.

Conversation begins gently enough, school and Edward. But then somehow, at the admission that Tom wants to take Sybil out to the pictures and maybe the theatre Cora finds herself gulping hard, reaching for the white wine she'd poured herself and daubing her neck. Robert seems equally displeased with the idea, and has a slightly more verbal way of showing it.

"Haven't you got exams to be studying for?" He jerks his head at Tom in that way that even made Cora stand to attention.

"Yes. I, um, yes..." Cora gently nudges Robert's arm. She might not be in agreement with the way this relationship of Sybil's seemed to be heading, it was worrying in fact, but she wouldn't have rudeness at the dinner table and certainly not started by Robert towards a guest.

"And what do you hope to do?"

"Dad I don't think-"

"Ssh Sybil dear. I am only trying to get to know Tom. Just as I know that you want to be a nurse, I want to find out what Tom aspires to."

"Well I am quite good with my hands." Cora almost chokes on her wine. Excusing herself to the sink to breath deeply. She can see Sybil rolling her eyes in the reflection of the glass and she curses under her breath for being so childish. "I've applied for a course at the airport, mechanics and things."

"Not A levels then?" The silence across the table makes Cora turn abruptly, settling into the seat beside Robert she takes his hand beneath the table.

"What boring small talk Robert. Tell me Tom what accents other than Irish can you manage. Sybil here is rather proficient." She ignores the stare she can see is aimed at her from Robert. Instead she laughs along with the others as Sybil tries and fails to get Tom to imitate some of the accents she can do.

Twenty minutes later Cora is left with Robert and the remainder of her glass of wine.

"Why did you change the subject? I wanted to find out-"

"You were being nosy Robert." She swills the liquid around the glass and peers over it at Robert. "And you should have seen the way Sybil was looking at you. You, neither of us, might agree with Sybil having a boyfriend. But we have to remember both her sisters have had long term relationships and one of them is a mother and the other about to be. That's made her more mature. We can't be seen to be turning our noses up at the first man she chooses." He takes her hand, raising it to his lips.

He keeps it there, gently warming her fingers between his own. The friction makes her shiver briefly, she hadn't realised how cold they had become against the glass.

"Besides Robert. There are worse men out there. So much worse." She stands, still clutching her glass and walks around the table. He kisses her forehead as he takes her wine glass.

"Why don't we take Edward and go and sit in our little living room?" She squeezes his hand, closing her eyes once softly. It had been a while since they'd sat quietly together, feeling content. Goodness, how much Cora dreamed that those moments would last forever. But alas, the Crawley household had never been without its drama and couldn't imagine they were that far from more of it.

* * *

Edward was rolling about in the corner, his mat set a reasonable distance from the fully glass wall that looked out onto London—Cora wouldn't want to think he was at risk of banging his head. Phyllis had left him a pile of work, each with a sticky label informing him what she needed him to do for each or something she wasn't sure about.

Robert was pleased all in all that Cora was going with Phyllis on one of her talks, it was only two hours out of her working afternoon and Robert knew that the work she was doing was worth it. He also knew that it would be good for Cora to do it, she had a way with people—a way of attracting them and letting them be honest in front of her. It was a very tiny price, not a price at all really, to have Edward rolling about on his office floor.

His rattle moves about on the mat as he bashes it about with his hands. He could now hold it in hands for a short amount of time and usually ended up trying to throw it about, but he wasn't really strong enough to get it any further than his little body.

A knock at the door was not something he was expecting—Bates was the only person that might want to bother him and he didn't knock, he just came in.

"Come in." Edward's face twists around when the door opens, no doubt anticipating his mother who had disappeared out that door some time ago. Robert equally turns his head expectantly to the door.

The gentleman who enters he takes a second to place, outside of his scrubs and holding a clipboard, stethoscope around his neck he was harder to recognise but the man before him was indeed Doctor Bertie Pelham.

"Doctor Pelham I think?" He nods his head, hands held stiffly behind his back and the firm straight line of his mouth proves he is thinking. Second guessing his decision to come.

"I don't mean to push in Mr Crawley. But the lady on the main reception said you might be able to see me if I came up and knocked."

"Of course. Do sit. I would say Phyllis will make you some coffee but she is out this afternoon." His hands twist in his lap as he takes one breath and then another.

"What I'm about to ask may seem a little odd."

"Believe me Doctor Pelham I have had drunk men in this room and I currently have my son rolling about in the corner. I hardly think the situation can get any more strange." His lips turn very slightly.

"I still fear you might think I've stepped out of the eighteen hundreds. I've come to ask permission to date your daughter, perhaps not quite that immediately. But, well-" He drifts off, and Robert does what he always does when something takes him by surprise that really shouldn't, he leans back in his chair and stretches his out legs in front of him. Why was it his mother-in-law was always right? She had said this was going to happen and sure enough, here he sat with Bertie opposite him.

"I won't insult your intelligence by asking you which of my daughters, or why you're asking permission. I think you need to ask Edith." His hands drum on his trousers legs, stretching over the knees as if wiping off the dampness beneath.

"I know I do. I just, she's had a tough time and I have this odd feeling that she might just think I'm accusing her of being unable to be a single mother. That I think she needs rescuing or something." Robert can't help smiling to himself, this man really had taken note of Edith in his few brief encounters, he seemed to have a grasp of her character already.

"My wife has taught me many things over the years but I think the first thing I ever learned was that the hardest part is breaking the ice. Before her every woman had come in wanting me. She didn't and I found myself liking her, wanting to be with her and in the end I had to break the ice. I had to admit it. Those hard things have the best rewards, little Edward is living proof. As for my permission, if it means so very much to you know that I give it." Bertie nods and stands, adjusting the sleeves on his brown suit. He takes his leave and in doing so installs rather a buzz in Robert's chest. It would be good for Edith to have another man in her life one day. It may be slightly too soon just yet, but there was potential with Doctor Pelham, in fact Robert had to say he rather liked him.

"Actually Doctor, before you leave I believe you work with a Doctor Tapsell."

"Yes. He specialises in stomach cancers and other related things." Robert didn't like someone putting it quite like that, the word cancer loomed too large despite the fact that wasn't what this was about.

"Yes, well I'm meant to be having a follow up appointment and I've called him three times this week but haven't been able to get through. You couldn't possibly just give him a gentle reminder?"

"Of course. I'll try and sort that."

Just as he's about to put his head down to his work again Edward bursts into an angry set of sobs on the floor—entertaining himself for long periods of time was not necessarily something he had got used to yet, there were so many people at home to entertain him after all. He scoops him into his arms and swings him about like an aeroplane for a moment before pulling out the box from beneath his desk.

"Now you see Edward I thought this might happen. Which is why your Daddy went shopping. You can't tell Mummy though otherwise there will be trouble for Daddy." He lowers them both to the ground and lays Edward back on the mat as he opens the box.

It was a little bridge like structure that had items of different shapes and sizes hanging down from the top rail. The supports were adjustable. The idea was it was to be placed over Edward, one support either side, and then he can kick his legs or hit his hands against the different items.

Clipping all the pieces into place he lays Edward beneath it and adjusting the height again so his hand just reaches the toys he flicks them from the other side watching as his little son reaches up his chubby fingers to try and touch it. Flapping his fingers he pushes it easily back in the other direction, it swings back, the little pivots attached to each toy making them like swings.

Robert leaves him playing, returning to his desk, at least he wasn't crying now.

The background tapping and jiggling of Edward's play keeps him suitably distracted while he tries to get through the boredom of the day's paperwork. He did enjoy his work, but he liked the active parts; interviews and meetings. Speaking about it all was his strong point paper work had never been an enjoyment which is why he supposed he'd got so adamant about finding the right secretary whenever he needed a new one. She (because well it has always been a woman) was the one who organised his paperwork and inevitably took some of that work load for him. The women he'd worked best with were the ones that were efficient and good at knowing what they could do without waiting for his heads up. And naturally it helped a very great deal if they weren't ogling him half the time.

"If whom weren't ogling whom?" The biro ends up stabbing through the sheet of paper. He hadn't heard them arrive back and he certainly hadn't realised he'd been talking out loud. Cora stands in the doorway either way, her hands clasped by her front, one finger twiddling with the top of the glove that is firmly on the other.

"How was you talk. Did it all go okay?"

"It went fine but answer the question Robert. What were you talking to yourself about?" She comes to perch on the edge of the desk, her hand making a single brush through his hair.

"I was complaining about how I don't like it when other men ogle at my wife." She rolls her eyes and turns her attention to Edward. She crosses the room to examine his new toy, lifting him from the ground to place a kiss on his forehead.

"It looks like Daddy has been spoiling you with special toys. I hope you've been good Edward and that Daddy's got his work done." She walks him over the the window, bouncing him on her hip. She stands and points out all the different buildings to Edward. It was silly really, how parents did this wth their children, talked and talked not bothered about a reply, knowing full well they wouldn't understand. But they all did it and he and Cora were certainly no exception.

Looking at them now though, his wife and his baby son framed in the windows of his office, the whole of London spread out before them he wanted nothing more than to freeze the image forever. Cora and he had looked out through that window stood together on her last day at the office and now he was one removed looking at them, his legacy and his heart looking at the same view that had changed little and captivated him as a child.

The soft toy bear clutched in Cora's hand throws up a thousand memories too, presents from Rosamund had always been handmade. The toy bear was part of a tradition dating back to Mary's first Christmas.

* * *

 _Mary shuffled decisively across the floor. It was true she preferred to lie still but when she was surrounded by this many new things she naturally couldn't help herself. Her crawling was coming along but she much preferred to shuffle along on her bottom and pull herself up using the settee when she came across an obstacle._

 _She picked one new toy up after the other. It was true that he and Cora had tried very much not to spoil her, she was only nine months old after all and they knew she would remember none of it. However, they did want a fair amount of lovely pictures to put in the album, this was going to the only Christmas devoted entirely to her after all, her brother or sister was due in four months._

 _Cora certainly was round with the beauties of her second pregnancy and the speed of the whole last two years had seemed to quench his mother's distaste at them not having got on with it sooner._

 _"Dada." Mary drops the fluffy panda into his lap before reaching for the blocks and throwing a yellow one towards Cora. "Mama." It was true she exaggerated all the syllables and her lips hung over the first 'Ma' of 'Mama' but they both knew what she was saying. Robert reaches over and touches Cora's swollen stomach. Mary herself then crawls over and touches._

 _"What's in there Mary?"_

 _"Baba." She shuffles her way back to the Christmas tree. Robert beats her to it. Grabbing the small number of additional presents that had appeared beneath the tree all for his sister and mother. She'd quickly learnt how to rip the paper that morning as Cora had helped her with the first few presents._

 _"Those aren't for you Mary." She seems to understand and Robert ruffles the beautiful curls Cora was refusing to cut. They were very tight curls, but wild. Cora had placed two little red ribbon hair bands on them for today that perfectly matched her velvet red dress. The doorbell sounds and Mary swivels around, her finger pointing at the door. Cora scoops her up and they wander into the hallway the smell of the turkey making Mary rub her nose._

 _They'd arranged for everyone to come earlier for Christmas this year, Mary would get tired easily so it was best to get it out the way. It also meant they could sit around together before Cora had to disappear into the kitchen and start the rest of the meal whereas usually everyone arrived while she was all red in the face, her head permanently in the oven._

 _Mary is swept from Cora's arms by the squeals of his sister, closely followed by a more sedate Marmaduke who immediately offers his services in the kitchen._

 _"How is my little goddaughter and niece then?" Rosamund swings her about in the air and Mary coos. Jumbling lots of sounds together to make a noise. His mother appears at the top of the steps_ _carrying two bags of what could only be presents. She gives him a curt nod before depositing the bags in the hallway._

 _"Your sister seemed to think it acceptable to make her mother carry the bags and then whisk away her only grandchild." She fiddles with her necklace, lips pursed in a straight line as she looks at him. She was just waiting for him to argue, to tell her off for being rude about her limited number of grandchildren. It was true after all that despite Violet knowing full well the situation that Rosamund and Marmaduke found themselves in—a very low if not impossible chance of children—she couldn't leave off mentioning Mary at every conversation turn. How beautiful she is or how quickly she was learning to move about or how lovely it was she was soon to have a sibling. She forgot, too often, that people had feelings. Goodness, Robert had already argued with her over the matter on two occasions and she loved trying to stir him into arguments._

 _"I'm going to ignore that and offer you a drink." She huffs, her eyes rolling in annoyance. She accepts a sherry and waltzes off into the living room._

 _Rosamund was already taking hundreds of pictures of Mary, the click seemed to be snapping more than once a second she was going so quickly._

 _Robert adjusts himself on the arm of Cora's chair, resting his arm across the shoulders._

 _"How are you feeling?"_

 _"Fine. Tired but fine." He chuckles at that, kissing the top of her head._

 _"Well we were up late last night. All those presents and then your approval of my Santa costume." She blushes like she always has done. Her cheeks flaming at his insinuations._

 _Robert notices amongst her blushes her eyes, staring in what appeared to be the distance, as though she was only half focused on him. And indeed she was, her gaze trained on the way Rosamund bounced her niece so easily in her lap. The funny faces Marmaduke was making and the game he played as he teased Mary with her toys making her dribble as she cooed, raspberries get blown from between her lips and strings of sounds mixed with 'mama' and 'dada' come from her mouth. Cora places her hand in his lap, squeezing the fingers between his own and then holding them right. He didn't need to ask, he didn't need to even look at her face to know what she was saying albeit silently. She was appreciating how lucky she is, they are, to have each other and a growing family. They had been granted all they could have wished for while others, others that deserved it all, were suffering without._

 _"Can I get her presents?" Rosamund looks so excited at the prospect and Robert is about to nod his agreement but Cora stands up, stretching her arms and eyeing his mother. Rosamund also turns her gaze in that direction and Violet raises her eyebrows at them over her sherry glass._

 _"What are you all looking at me for?"_

" _I wanted Mary to be able to have the presents we brought but then we wanted to check with you. You know how much you like to wait until after the Queen."_

 _"Mary will be asleep if we wait that long Rosamund. Don't be so absurd don't you know children need their sleep?" Marmaduke rubs her shoulder as she scowls softly, her eyes rolling, as everyone's often did when his mother was in the room. It doesn't seem to help much though, Rosamund stands and heads for the hall in silence, leaving Mary sat on the floor. Marmaduke makes to go after her but Robert beats him to the door. Nobody understood more than he did, Violet breathing down her neck was something he'd experienced one too many times._

 _"Roz," He catches up to her in the hall just in time to see her wipe a tear from her eye._

 _"It's alright Robert. I'm fine. Now, let's get these presents into the other room." She picks them up, her mouth widening into a false smile._

 _"I have told her, twice now, not to be rude but-"_

 _"Robert I've said I'm fine. I don't need you fighting my battles. She only says it because she likes to dig at Duke, just as she was rude about Cora before Mary came along." She takes the bags and returns to the living room._

 _No sooner has she lowered the bags to the settee than Mary is pulling herself up on the side of the cushions and lifting an arm up to Marmaduke, demanding to be lifted._

 _He swings her up onto his lap and Rosamund hands her the gift. Her method of opening the presents was very unique. She grabbed a hold of the paper and lifted the item. If it was light, as this one appeared to be, she moved her hand up and down and the paper would tear, the item falling from it. This time a soft dog, handmade by Rosamund falls from the paper._

 _It was one of those items that oozed love. The button eyes were slightly wonky at the front and she had stitched a tiny pink piece onto the pointed nose of the otherwise green-grey dog. It's ears were perched straight up and it had a red stripe around its neck clearly meant to be the collar._

 _Despite the fact Rosamund holds another present Mary just looks at the dog in her lap. Her finger strokes over the spine, just as he had taught her to stroke Pharaoh. Her finger lifts off the fabric when she nears the thin tail Rosamund had stitched—Pharaoh didn't like his tail being touched._

 _She looks up at him then, sat the other side of his sister and points to the floor._

 _"Row." It was how she tried to say Pharaoh. She'd got very good at picking up the sounds of some of the words he and Cora spoke and Robert would often point at the floor when Pharaoh climbed onto the settees in the living room as he wasn't allowed on them, and then he would say the dogs name, clearly what Mary was remembering._

 _"That's right. Pharaoh stays on the floor." She looks up to Marmaduke then, expectantly, already trying to shuffle across his lap, her feet moving from being outstretched to close to her body, the exact movement she used to propel herself across the floor. He lifts her down and once settled on the floor she shuffles back to her panda, but ignoring it she puts the dog down, lifting it up and down off the floor in rather large motions, moving it one way and then the other._

" _Roo. Row. Oo...ow."_

 _"How long did it take you to make that Roz?" That was Cora, smiling softly across the room. His sister smiles at the attention._

 _"A while. I've made a second one, for the new baby." She reaches into the big bag of presents. "It's a cat." She places it in his lap, and he can't help but smile broadly. His sister truly was turning into quite the generous sort. She was so family minded that it scared him sometimes._

 _"Well they are truly beautiful Rosamund thank you."_

 _"Well I am pleased you appreciate them Cora. I was worried they would be too plain." He shakes his head at that, smiling into his lap._

 _"Nothing about you sis could ever be plain. And Mary clearly thinks that the dog is really something special. She hasn't sat with any of her other toys as long as she has that soft dog in the whole morning. Which says a lot for all that money I've spent." They all laugh at his dry wit, only Mary stays totally absorbed. The words 'Roo' and 'Row' being the only thing she murmurs for the next two hours as she jumps the dog from one of their laps to the next and then across the floor and on the edge of the tree, the fireplace. It touches everywhere. She even clutches it profusely when Robert lifts her into her high chair at the table. Mary had picked a favourite toy and along with it came a very gushing Aunt._


	24. Chapter 24

_She stretches her feet on the stool, trying to push away the annoying twitches of pain. There was a tiredness behind her eyes now as well, this was the latest night she'd had in the last month and still there was much she wanted to talk with Robert about. She was going to be very late._

 _She taps her fingers over her stomach. Not as late as the baby was getting though. She hoped it wouldn't be the full two weeks late but it looked like that was going to be the case. Eleven days had passed since her due date and still no sign of the baby thinking it might be time to move._

 _She hears Robert saying his last goodbyes before the door shuts in the hallway and she hears the decisive click as he turns the lock. She signs with the click, her head falling back on the settee as she pulls the last of the pins from her hair._

 _"Any paparazzi at the door?" It wouldn't be something they'd normally mention but after tonight's highly distinguished guest for dinner, and his girlfriend of some years now, they were rather targets for gossip columns._

 _"A handful. But not as many as Edward was expecting." Robert sits down beside her, stroking his hands over her swollen belly._

 _Prince Edward had been their guest, youngest son of the Queen. He had visited before, he was an old friend of Robert's and the paparazzi were well aware of that. The reason they likely turned up tonight was the fact Edward hadn't come to dine alone. His girlfriend, Sophie, had come with him. It was the first time she and Robert had met her, although for the last three years they had heard an awfully lot about her. Naturally the press were getting extremely interested with Edward's whereabouts and his relationship with Sophie for a number of reasons. Firstly the length of time it has now been going on; secondly, the breakdown of all of his sibling's marriages and lastly, more significantly who Sophie was. She was simply in PR, running her own very distinguished company. This was the woman who has seemed to capture the Princes' heart._

 _"What did you think of her?" Cora had been dying to ask him since Sophie had arrived and well, Robert and she had been rather pressuring Edward into some kind of relationship for years. Seven to be exact and now he finally seemed to be getting somewhere._

 _"She was polite enough. Funny. Pretty which I suppose with the fact she is going to end up a Princess is quite important. She seemed comfortable with him. She's very delicate though, I wonder if the spotlight will get too much. What did you think?" She loves how frank Robert was about everything. He was always very serious, treated almost every hint like it was business._

" _I thought she was incredibly self assured and confident. I think, she'll make a very good princess."_

 _"Not that Edward will want her a princess. I'm sure he'll sort the titles so that upon their marriage—if they get that far—they shall blend into insignificance."_

 _"Um, true. What do you mean 'if' they do?"_

 _"Well, it's early days yet."_

 _"Early Robert! It's been three years. We were married after that length of time." She knows her mouth hangs open as she tries to strain her neck backwards so she can see his face, it really was too difficult to move her whole body._

 _"Yes. But he is who he is." Cora knew that much was true. This decision was not solely his. Sophie would no doubt have to be 'checked' by the Queen and no doubt Sophie's parents had their doubts._

 _"Yes. But I wouldn't want them to wait too long. We don't want Sophie having children too late. She'll enjoy it less." It was true that Cora felt that waiting any longer for motherhood would be a drag. It needed all the energy in the world and it was stressful even without being a public figure._

 _"I suppose. But she'll have lots of help." Cora laughs out loud._

 _"Oh yes! So someone is going to do the pregnancy for her are they. And give birth."_

 _"Cora-"_

 _"I know, I know. Nannies and all. But in the end none of that really matters, not at their end of the succession. You think, Edward's grandchildren will be so far down the succession they will likely have jobs. What's important is that Edward and Sophie love each other and will be able to bring up children capable of raising pretty much normal citizens.* Look at Princess Margaret's side of the family, it's hard to remember who they are, that's what Edward's end is going to get like one day. But I think, from what I saw, that Sophie might be capable." He pulls her against his side, kissing the back of her head. She knew she got heated about these kind of things and it was true that she and Robert had waited years to see Edward find someone. He was their friend and they both wanted him happy. Cora saw in Sophie what she looks like with Robert and she would have married them here and now if she'd had a license._

 _"Funny thing is, I could see it written all over her face. How happy she was I mean, but I think Edward looks stressed. He is happy, beneath that, but there was a lot of stress there too. I don't look stressed when we are together do I?" She laughs against his arm, kissing the fabric on his shoulder._

 _"No. But you weren't a Prince with a whole lot of pressure. He's got three siblings whose marriages everyone thinks makes the royal family a failure. He has to succeed. And well, therefore he has to have the right woman and then when he's got her he's got to keep hold of her and make her think that the press and everything can be forgotten, which of course they can't." He sighs deeply, and leans his head back against the settee._

 _"Well there's not much we can do, only wait for the wedding invitation." Cora rolls her eyes, Robert had seemed to immediately forget all his own arguments as to why it was going to take so much longer than it already had but when he laughs behind her ear it was fairly clear he was only joking. "How's the baby?"_

 _"A pain. Why won't it just make a move?" She shuffles, twisting her feet about again. She did so want the discomfort to be over and to be able to hold her second baby. The waiting was getting more and more unpleasant. If she was honest Sophie and Edward's visit hasn't helped much. It had reminded her all to well of the years before she and Robert had started a family, even before they'd got married. The carefree nature of it, the fun and exuberance. She adored being a mother mind you and she and Robert were lucky in the sense that they did find time for those things too. It was just this baby, it's in ability to move made her think she is failing and well, it was so annoying. She wanted the joys, not drawn out pregnancy pains and aches._

 _"Clearly I said the wrong thing."_

 _"Yes. You damn well did. This baby of yours is as stubborn as the first if not more so. I just want it to MOVE!" He laughs in her ear, a long laugh that leaves him short of breath. She can't help but find his laughing infectious._

 _"I adore the fact 'she' becomes 'it' when you're angry." She ignores him as her back twinges yet again and she has to move. He seems to sense she needs to walk about, too much sitting down alway made the back worse and he springs up supporting her back and arm as she straightens._

 _"To be fair Robert we don't definitely know it's a girl. It a just feels the same, that's all." She pushes her toes into the carpet, enjoying the feel of the fibres brushing between her toes, swirling against the soft skin._

 _Robert watches her intently from the settee and Cora finds his presence reassuring. He was near enough to catch her if she tripped._

 _"Was Mary asleep when you went up?" She nods, they'd been worried about Mary finding sleep when they were downstairs eating and laughing but when she'd gone up to check shortly after dinner Mary had already been breathing deeply, wrapped up in blankets, her teddy bear beside her._

 _"She looked so peaceful. I envy her. I'm lucky if I get half an hours sleep with this massive baby of yours kicking and punching." Robert laughs again but one arch of her eyebrow cuts him off. "It's not funny Robert. I'm in far too much discomfort for you to be laughing."_

 _"I'm sorry. You're right of course." He stands up, walking around the coffee table. He brushes his hands over her stomach and then clasps her fingers in his, kissing her knuckles._

 _She feels that twinge in her back again. The tightening of her muscles, as if her body was all the time bracing itself against something. This time though the sensation isn't just in her back, she feels a release altogether lower, a relaxation of her muscles. She's about to sigh in peace when she feels it. The slither of water, damp liquid down her leg._

 _Robert must see the look on her face because he mumbles something about it being alright before he's on the phone to Rosamund asking her to come for Mary._

 _Cora takes steadying breaths, she'd been waiting for this. For the baby to make a move for weeks and now it was happening, yet now that Robert was ushering her into the hallway and appearing with bags of supplies and checking his watch frantically, mumbling under his breath about Rosamund being such a hopeless time keeper, she kind of wanted to go back four hours to Edward and Sophie arriving at the door._

 _When Rosamund does appear, not ten minutes after Robert had first called he barely acknowledges her, just ploughs straight for the front door, a heavy bag in one hand and supporting her with the other._

 _"Robert. Don't panic. There's plenty of time yet."_

 _"I'm not panicking." His hand grips hers tighter as he pushes the door closed behind them with his foot._

 _That's when the shouts start. The flashes and the shouts._

 _"Sir, Prince Edward was seen here earlier is there anything you can say?"_

 _"Madame, Miss Rhys-Jones dined here earlier. Are she and the Prince to be married?" From every direction men were pushing and shoving, bulbs flashing in their vision. Branson who had brought the car around hidden from their view. Clearly since the dinner, and the departure of their guests the paparazzi has thought it fitting to congregate on their doorstep just in case on of them came back or, more likely, to try and get some answers from the unsuspecting friends._

 _Robert's grip becomes a vice on her wrist as they pause at the top of the steps to try and find a way through. She can see the anger and annoyance in his face so it doesn't surprise her when he yells._

 _"Gentleman, get out the way! My wife needs to get to the car she's just gone into labour." It's only then that they step aside, clearly realising that this wasn't a joke._

 _She feels so unsure of her feet as she tries the stairs. The wet stickiness was uncomfortable against her leg and felt her feel all too self conscious. A hand reaching out to support her other side is somewhat of a relief, and before twenty seconds has passed she's lowering herself into the back seat of the car, Robert climbing in after her._

 _"You alright. I thought they'd have gone." He rubs her shoulder._

 _"Fine. Absolutely fine." She squeezes his hand as the car pulls away, trying desperately to ignore how damp she is, and how little sleep she'd had to be facing giving birth in the next few hours._

 _He kisses her ear, rubbing his hand up and down her thigh._

 _"You don't have to lie to me Cora. You're allowed to admit you're feeling uncomfortable."_

 _"Trust me darling. I'm not half as uncomfortable as I'm going to be. Besides its your comfort that caused all the trouble last time." He nods briskly, averting his eyes. The nurses had removed him, and some force was required, from the room when Mary had been born. He'd been causing more arguments than being a support and somewhat against his character he had begun using his title in the hope it would speed the nurses up or get them to give her more pain medication._

 _The combination of her in pain with frayed nerves and Robert shouting and wincing before he eventually was sick at the sight of all the blood which had led to the nurse having to remove him. She didn't doubt he was more tense about being at the hospital again than she was._

 _She takes his hands in hers again, providing the comfort she knew he needed._

 _"Let's not be reminded of that." She chuckles, a smile warming her cheeks which went a great deal of the way to forgetting the discomfort._

 _"Oh I don't know. You were rather sweet." She shifts again on the seat, trying to find some comfort. Goodness help her of this birth was as long as her first one._

* * *

She shouldn't have been thinking about Sophie, that was what has sparked the memory after all, she should be focusing on seeing Phyllis safely out of her wedding frock and into her travelling clothes. She certainly shouldn't be stood in the bathroom staring at her phone desperately waiting for Sophie's text.

They'd met two days ago, as planned and discussed the trust and the work she and Phyllis were trying to do. There had been a fair amount of gushing on Sophie's part too, mainly over Edward and her disbelieve over her and Phyllis meeting such dreadful men. She had wanted to help, be patron and join them on talks but she did, as expected have to check over the limits of her time—how many more charities could she back while still giving all a fair amount of time? She also had to check she wasn't treading on a fellow Royal's heels or that she would be granted the job, another Royal might be offered in replacement.

She slips the phone back into her pocket. There was no point in panicking. Sophie would do her best. What was far more of a problem at this very moment was the shuffling she can hear in the other room as Phyllis—now Mrs Molesley—appeared to be struggling with her frock.

Cora steps back into the room, pleasantly surprised to find that in fact Phyllis had removed herself from her outfit but was struggling to get in on the hanger.

"Give it here. You go find your jacket, I can practically hear Joe pacing outside!" Cora struggles it on to the hanger and hangs it on the wardrobe door as Phyllis laughs.

She twirls one last time in front of the mirror and offering her last thanks for the whole day heads for the door. Cora takes a last steadying breath and takes Phyllis's hand.

"Actually Phyllis. There was something I need to check with you. Has Robert been acting oddly at work. Bending over or wincing in pain?" Phyllis blinks and looks down. She tries to crumbles her face is confusion but she doesn't manage it, not before Cora sees the flicker of remembrance or more likely the flicker of the memory that was Robert telling her not to say anything. Cora only nods as Phyllis takes her hand gently.

"He's fine I'm sure." Phyllis circles her thumb over her knuckles but Cora says nothing, it wasn't alright. Cora had seen him wincing but not said anything; surely he would tell her, surely he knew that keeping secrets was not a good idea? And the pain on his face hadn't looked like nothing. He was in terrible pain, terrible pain and yet he didn't think it necessary to tell her. "And I'm sure he'll tell you once he visited the doctor again on Wednesday. That fancy one, Doctor Tapsell, he specialises in all those stomach things."

"Stomach-" Phyllis' eyes widen again and she drops her gaze. Cora knows her mouth settles into a firm, straight line. That was always the look she wore when she was frustrated and felt badly treated. "It seems he's said more to you than to me." She shakes her head, her thoughts being dragged away from their current uncomfortable problems to the knocking on the door. "That'll be Joe." She squeezes Phyllis' hands and grins a wide smile, she knew what the honeymoon was, her dear friend didn't and had been fussing about the matter for the last two weeks.

It was strange to think she had only known Phyllis for a year and a half, since they got back from holiday in fact, but she really did think of her as a friend.

"Cora, don't worry about Robert. He will tell you it all in his own time. I'm sure he just doesn't want to panic you." She knew that, she really did. He was always one to spare her feelings and anxiety but she couldn't bear to think she was being kept in the dark because he didn't want her support and comfort, which somehow was always what it felt like.

She waves Phyllis off from the top of the stairs, focusing all her attention on the beautiful stretch of manicured land, the large trees framing the path. As nobody watches she slips away, around the side of the Abbey and down towards elegant ancient temple structure hidden behind the wafting leaves that she uses so often as a sanctuary when she is here.

She steps up through the colonnades and into the open centre. She turns briefly, looking back over at the house. She felt large when she stood here—perfectly in line with the great abbey it didn't feel large or intimidating it felt like an equal. She felt so much larger than the trees and she could see for miles which was a good enough way to clear her mind.

More importantly though, here, she felt special no matter what. She felt special because she was alone here. Anything she said out loud was said to the air. Nobody judged. Or at least that was how it usually was. This time though, this time someone was sat on the far said, curled against one of the columns deliberately facing the other way. She knew it was deliberate because it was Robert and he knew exactly when she came to this spot. When she was confused and angry.

She scuffs her shoe over the concrete, pushing it against the stone. She wanders over to where he is sat, pressing her toe against the bottom of the pillar by his back. Soil and stone that is loose around the bottom clings to the satin of the shoe. He still doesn't move, his gaze remaining fixed far in the distance.

She sits on the step by his side, clasping her fingers together. When she glances up he is looking at her, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip with nerves.

"You should have told me." He drops his gaze stretching his toes in his expensive leather shoes. His fingers twist over the suit where it clings to his knees.

"There's nothing you or anyone else can do." He really was infuriating sometimes. His constant belief that he could manage better on his own, keeping silent, had always been his stubborn nature that much was true. But never, never had he kept such heavy emotions curled up inside as he had in the last few years of their marriage. First Jane and now this.

"Perhaps not. But I love you Robert. The whole point of being _us_ is so we can share our troubles. Unburden each other and you-you persist in keeping it all knotted up inside and-" She loses her voice, choking herself with her own sobs. She falls against his side, the silk of his pressed jacket rubbing on her cheek. The smell of it, of his tailors and of him, the case it had travelled to Downton in washes over her nose and she closes her eyes.

His hand wraps around her waist, shifting her body closer to his. The tears spill over at the feel of his fingers curving at her hip, what on earth was she supposed to do without him?

"How long did they say?"

"Only ten weeks. The medicine works effectively and thankfully it's only the common cause—bacteria in the stomach so an antibiotic does the trick." She frowns, rubbing her hand along the front of his jacket, pushing her fingers beneath his tie to lie on his warm shirt right over his stomach.

"I fear I've rather been overreacting. I thought, I thought-"

"That it was like my Dad?" He kisses her top of her head and then her forehead. "No it's not cancer. Just a stomach ulcer. A bad one mind you, but that's all." She feels the tremblings of relief overcome her. She pushes against his shoulder, curving her body right into his. He accepts her clinging with another soft kiss to her forehead.

"When you say bad?"

"The bacteria destroyed a large section of my stomach lining exposing the soft tissue in a number of places." She cringes internally, but not from discomfort, more from a general annoyance that he hadn't told her any of this.

"When will it enter your head that telling me things will not mean I bite your head off?" She leans up, smoothing her hand over his forehead like she might over Edward's.

"I don't like worrying you. Look at you now. Make-up out of place on your cheeks and a haunted look in your eyes and all on Phyllis' wedding day." She dips her gaze, it was true that she shouldn't be upset today but the problem was quite a number of months of stress had led up to today, never had she put so much effort into any other wedding at the Abbey, and she'd been worrying about Robert for a few weeks which weighed heavily.

"Speaking of Phyllis, how come she knew so much more about the ulcer than I did?" He takes her hand, kissing each of the knuckles softly and then turning her palm against his mouth. He talks between the kisses.

"How was I going to explain my random disappearances? I couldn't have her thinking that I had started some affair." Cora laughs softly, like a gentle tingle of a bell.

"Phyllis would never think such a thing. She's too good and she knows full well you are not capable of deceiving me about any such thing." He chuckles very softly and arches his eyebrows, shaking his head, it was the look of a sudden new thought occurring to him.

"I have deceived you a little by keeping you in the dark about my ulcer." It is clear he is teasing her so she lets him kiss her. This was the way it had been the last two days they had been at the Abbey. Edward had grown used to Rosamund in the eight months of his life and she and Robert had decided that one night away from him for Phyllis' wedding was not a big deal and that Rosamund could certainly cope. The result of the experience had been a strange sense of quiet and emptiness last night and yesterday without having to structure her day around her little one. Robert had quickly filled the void though and pushed away all the concerns she had rattled off when they had climbed into bed last night by neatly reminding her of nights long past—weekends at Downton long before the children.

"That doesn't count. I still noticed the painful faces you made sometimes." His nose rubs over hers before he presses his lips just very briefly, hardly at all, to hers. Then he stands, taking her hand and propelling her back down the slope leading back to the flat ground towards the house. The house where marriage and love had truly started.

* * *

It certainly added an awkward touch, being told to enter the office following his meeting with the nurse prior to his appointment and second gastroscopy, when Doctor Tapsell was, it was now apparent, running late.

Men of his station one hundred years ago would have pulled a harsh face at the sight as he enters. Doctor Merton, a colleague of Tapsell's was simply enjoying his break (or rather lengthening it) with the help of a female friend. It was nothing inappropriate, not as Robert enters anyway, just kissing. It wasn't that which made it awkward though, not really. It was the woman with whom Doctor Merton was embracing that made the situation prickly. She was after all Robert's third cousin by marriage and the mother of his son-in-law and Isobel Crawley was certainly not someone whom he would have expected to be having such a secret relationship.

He clears his thought harshly only for the pair to spring apart. Isobel's face turns scarlet, her hand reaching up to flick her hair from her eye. It stays there, her head held softly in one hand.

"Robert!"

"Isobel. How are you today? Well I should think?" He raises his eyebrows in that manner that Cora always tells him makes him look like he's really playing the Earl of Grantham. Isobel turns a darker shade of pink at his insinuation and merely nods her head.

"Yes. Yes. Quite well. But I must be going, Doctor Clarkson will be wondering why I thought my lunch break was so long." She shuffles awkwardly towards the doctor who kisses her on the cheek regardless of his patient standing on. Isobel looks less than pleased at the charade and shuffles passed Robert like a thief in the night.

"I am sorry Mr Crawley. I had forgotten your appointment was so soon after lunch. Tapsell should be here any minute."

"Clearly. If I know women at all though Doctor I suggest you make your apologies to Isobel not myself. She will hold a grudge longer and no doubt cause more of a strain on your life than I will." He laughs his fingers sprinting across the keys as he gets up Robert's records.

"I'm sure you're right." He disappears as the far sterner, and far less pleasant Tapsell appears from the adjacent room and takes his seat opposite Robert.

"Firstly I need to check that all is going alright with your medication. No bad side effects or further symptoms of the ulcer?" It was typical that there are no pleasant introductions, only a straight out medical question.

"No side effects. I'm feeling more like eating again so it seems as though the drugs are doing the trick." Robert never saw the point in those questions. He was here to have a further endoscopy test to check that the progress was as anticipated, surely that was more telling than him thinking it was going alright.

"And you haven't eaten anything for the last eight hours?"

"No."

"Or drunk anything for the last four?"

"No."

"Very well. The nurse said you were going to have the sedative this time around."**

"Yes. Thank you."

"As long as you realise I have to keep you in for a longer time following the procedure and someone will need to collect you from the hospital and remain with you for twenty four hours."

"Yes. I understand. My wife is ready and waiting. There is one thing I've been meaning to ask. Why do I have to have this again?"

"Your ulcers were extensive Mr Crawley. I wouldn't usually run a second check but I want to be sure they are healing and that I don't need to up the dose of your medication or in fact surgically seal some of the ulcers." Robert gulps, if he was honest he had known he needed to visit the doctor sooner but he was just too stubborn. He should have gone as soon as he noticed the cramps and pains not a whole month later.

There was one element though that he could have quite easily lived without. The gastroscopy had been something he'd been dreading for a week, memories of the last one far too fresh in his mind.

"If I could ask you to follow me next door Mr Crawley, the nurses should be ready for you." He follows like a puppy dog, but with a slightly less eager footing. Sure enough the nurses are waiting.

The nurse asks him to open his mouth and sprays what she explains to be a local anaesthetic, to make it easier for him to 'pass' the endoscope. She then proceeds to give him the sedative injection he had agreed to, there was no way after last time he was going without that. He lies back gently on the bed while Doctor Tapsell readies himself in the corner. The nurse places the mask over his mouth—used he'd been told to protect his teeth—but Robert was well aware all it meant was that the time was looking nearer.

The endoscope he had seen last time and he didn't wish to have to see it again if he could avoid it. The long thin cable was quite ugly enough before taking into account he had to swallow it. All he had felt last time as he had swallowed and gagged (which was, he'd been told, quite normal) was Doctor Tapsell peering though the eyepiece which served to be excessively unnerving.

"If I could ask you to lie on your left side." There he is, looming over him. "I'm going to insert the endoscope though the mouth piece and as before I would be grateful if you would swallow when your body feels the urge to, all will be more comfortable for you that way." Robert resists the urge to roll his eyes, nothing about this test was comfortable.

Predictably he gags the second the endoscope fills his mouth. The doctor pauses which really doesn't serve the purpose of keeping his feelings calm. If anything it just lets the feeling of sickness and nausea swell. He knew from last time that the quicker the endoscope found its way to his oesophagus the easier the procedure became. You hardly noticed the thing when it was safely within the stomach but this first part was particularly troublesome and the longer he waited the more time he has to think about the horror of swallowing it and thus the more likely he will choose not to. Goodness only knows what that meant—the doctor would force it he supposed.

He gulps, another sensation of sick rising as the end lodges itself in his throat. He can feel it slithering downwards for a while with the sick sensation passing more and more with further depth, but eventually he loses any idea of where it is, his body habituated to the strange sensation, his only reference point is the doctor's sigh—clearly it had reached the stomach.

"I'm going to insert air in to your stomach sir, just as I did last time." Robert half nods, the sedative beginning to take an effect. The peculiar sensation of his stomach bloating within him is not something he misses though. It was like having butterflies but more sudden and constant. It wasn't really a tingling either as much as a dull ache.

The silence is a long one, or rather it feels long. It's not more than ten minutes but having to lay perfectly still while sensing the doctor beside him, looking inside him it was all rather unnerving. The sedative was making for a pleasanter experience than last time though. His thoughts could easily drift away from the room, the hospital gown and the slight ache in this throat and instead think of Cora; Edward.

Their little boy was certainly growing fast; it was hard to believe nine months had passed since his birth and he was crawling rather too well for the nerves of both he and Cora. He said 'Mama' and 'Dada' often and had even begun to get each directed at the right parent.

His thoughts take a full circle as he remembers Mary at a similar age. Mary would was now going to be a mother. Neither he nor Cora could make that out, Robert had since been informed that Cora had thought she'd persuaded Mary out of such a plan some months back but clearly she had ignored her mother much as Mary always had. It had led to a strange family dynamic on more than one occasion—living in a house where the mother so adored her children yet her eldest deemed it sensible not to return the affection.

Lost in his own thoughts he misses the swift removal of the endoscope and the confirmation that he could return shortly with the results of some of the photographs but that he should rest in the meantime.

He knows it to be some time later when he wakes because Cora sits by his side, her steady smile forcing his eyes wider the second he glimpses just the tiniest part of her.

"You didn't brave the pain this time I hear?"

"No." She squeezes his hand, which he hadn't actually realised she was holding. She laughs softly.

"They said you can go whenever you feel ready."

"What about my results?"

"Doctor Tapsell said he's happy with the progress. He's not going to up the dose or anything. But you're to report to him if you have any problems." He murmurs contentedly, his eyes still threatening to close. A peace settling over him—he was destined to be alright then.

"How is Edward?"

"Fine. He's been murmuring Dada ever since you were due home at half five and when I left he did burst into a fit of tears but I'm sure Rosamund has him under control." He hesitantly sits up, bringing her hand softly to his lips. Her hand in his made him feel like he was home. The lavender scent of her hand cream and the dip between her knuckles that he could smooth his nose over fill him with a warmth. Cora was his home.

* * *

* This was taken from an interview HRH Countess of Wessex, Sophie, did a few weeks back where she stated very plainly that her children were going to have jobs and that she was very proud of that thought.

** All the medical notes here, including the preparation for the endoscopy and the later details of the process as well as the details of Robert's particular case are all taken from research I've done. I've never had such a procedure so there was no first hand experience. If anyone has, I'm sorry if this is inaccurate.

AN: Just a note to say, I'm back now, good and proper. My chaos has subsided and I hope to be able to reply to all your reviews! Please, please, please, keep writing them they will make sure I write you the next ten plus chapters!


	25. Chapter 25

AN: This is the big one I have been talking about as regards Mary! For that reason the chapter is slightly shorter than usual as the plot is the significant part.

I hope you enjoy it and thank you all for the lovely reviews and favourites that show your support!

* * *

She should have known something was wrong. Mary wasn't one for inviting her parents over and she certainly wasn't one for offering the olive branch after disagreements. All that being said Cora knew therefore that she should have seen this coming and the look on Robert's face told her that he realised the exact same thing.

"Mary, you're scaring me. What do you mean there's only limited time. Is this something you've got to do before the baby arrives?" The look on her daughter's face tells her that her strange quip about 'limited time' was not to do with the nearing of her delivery date.

"I'm not saying anything until Matthew brings the tea. It's his story to tell anyway. Not mine." That seemed to rule out there being any problem with the baby but it didn't change the haunted look that hung over Mary. A look Cora is beginning to wonder hadn't been hugging at her daughter's eyes for some while, she had just failed to acknowledge it.

She pushes her fingers into her lap, tracing the outline of the purple flower sat on her knee before pulling her skirt straighter just for something to do. She's pleased to see that Robert too is uncomfortable, flopping back in the settee and keeping his eyes trained on a picture on the mantelpiece which he then jumps up to inspect, hands shifting from his pockets to his nose and back again.

Even more awkward is Mary, eyes wide fixed on her fingers. Watching as the nail of her index finger claws at the cuticle of her thumb. Matthew comes in bearing the tray and lays the mugs of steaming drink before them. Mary makes an immediate grab for hers, wrapping her hands around the dotted porcelain.

"I fear I've kept you all waiting." Matthew lowers himself to sit beside Mary as Robert retakes his seat, the soft furnishings falling about as he disrupts them once more. "I fear that could be a common theme for the rest of my life. Waiting." He half laughs but it's only to himself, Cora stares back at him unsure, Robert she notes is doing the same. Mary places her cup down and her fingers snarl at each other again before her head lifts and her chocolate eyes fix to Cora's own as strongly as a hammer makes contact with a nail.

"You have both been rather anxious since you heard about my pregnancy. Indeed, Mama you went a great way to talk me out of it not so long ago." Cora feels her stomach tighten. An unfamiliar, long lost companion of dread settling between its folds, amongst the cereal and juice she'd had for breakfast. "You think I am doing wrong; throwing away my life."

"I'm not sure there is much point in going over what has happened Mary." Robert reaches forward for his coffee, his words echoing a million of Cora's thoughts but delivering them in a less disjointed way. He sounded so calm, so ready for whatever this conversation was really about. Yet for Cora bubbles in her stomach kept threatening, anticipating. Making her feel the sickness over what could only be a deadly fear of the unknown.

"The point is that there is a reason why I'm pregnant now. Do you remember Mama when you said that Matthew and I should enjoy life for a while just us two?"

"Yes and you said that was what Matthew wanted too." She spies her son-in-law's frown at her last statement, the glance of confusion he makes towards Mary. It all sits within her stomach with the dread. She can feel it bubbling over, threatening at the very base of her throat.

"Except I lied. It wasn't Matthew that wanted to wait, it was me. Matthew has been suggesting since the moment of our marriage that we should start bringing children into the world. Even before the wedding in fact, it was that which made me so nervous on the holiday because I knew you that was what he would want. The only thing he would want." Her shoulders shake, her hand reaching across her lap from Matthew's. Cora sees her own hand shaking in her lap and reaches for her tea. She takes two large gulps of the burning liquid while Robert seems to, as always, voice the opinions of the room.

"Why did you lie to us Mary? Why did you not just say on the holiday that was the problem? Or tell your mother it was Matthew that wanted children?" Mary droops her head in a soft way, a wayward tear falling to her lap as she clutches harder at Matthew's hand.

"Because I was holding out hope that it would be alright and-and because I couldn't bear the looks of pity I would get. I see the way you look at Edith and I couldn't bear the thought of you looking at me in the same way." Cora's eyes close and her neck slackens. Her fingers reach to steady the bridge of her nose—trying to force the tears back—at the same second Robert knits his eyebrows together, his face flitting from one to the other of them before resting on her, asking with her eyes what he was not understanding.

"Matthew-" That's the only word she can get to crack from between her lips that seem to beg to remain sealed. The furies in her stomach catch alight, racing properly to the back of her throat and into her mouth.

Matthew nods his head at her, a soft look fluttering in his eyes before he closes them to address Robert's haunted look and Cora's swirling worries.

"I have a brain tumour." Cora gasps despite her being slightly more prepared than Robert for the news. She hadn't thought that it would be quite so life threatening quite so soon. She had been hoping that maybe it was just a diagnosis, that there might be a problem but no, Matthew seemed quite sure. "They thought it had gone but it hasn't and treatment is next near to impossible. Two check ups in the last four months have shown a clear increase in size. The doctors give me more than five years but well, I do want to see my children."

"Thought it had gone...?" Robert stutters over the words and indeed they were ones ringing in Cora's own mind.

"The diagnosis was first given five years ago. I had surgery to remove it. They assumed it was gone, as with other similar cases but-but...it hasn't." Cora feels her head nodding stupidly, unthinking. She chews at her lip, not seeing anything but the way Mary's hands move over her rounded stomach.

"Treatments have improved so much though, surely-" Robert's voice was breaking up, that was clear to anyone. Cora can't say anything to comfort him, not because she can't think of anything but because her own throat is sore and dry, rigid against the weight of a short six letter word.

"I'm afraid not. And with the rate of growth of the tumour surgery is not possible this time around. It would grow back almost immediately. Radiotherapy is too dangerous since the tumour is in exactly the same place—the brain will not be able to work through the side effects and chemotherapy will only keep me alive for so long."* A silence settles over them although Cora is completely unsure how, her heart is hammering and there is a wetness in her eyes blurring the only thing she can look at—Mary's circling hands as she softly mother's her unborn baby. The baby was to be a new year miracle, due in January but it was beginning to feel like miracle was all the wrong word. He or she would be a miracle for Matthew maybe but one that would no doubt make his burden much heavier to carry. To meet your own child that you knew you would never see grow old seemed beyond heartbreaking, beyond fairness.

"You said 'children,' the idea is to have more than one?" Robert seems to realise that wallowing in his own gruesome thoughts was not worth while. Indeed Cora agreed, but unlike him she was so much worse at shaking bad images. They seemed to haunt her, eating away at her mind without finding an outlet. While Robert might go home and cry she would be unable to and before she knew it her existence would just feel hollow.

"Yes. Hopefully two in the next couple of years. Matthew and I already wanted two or three and it seems we are just going to have to bite the bullet." Robert smiles and makes some comment about them being such good parents. Cora can't bring herself to look at any of their faces instead she stares at the photographs of Mary and Matthew around the place; wedding and holiday and she feels the same heaviness all over. The weight of a life that was to be unfairly cut short and another one to be left in limbo, crushed and worn without her loved one to support her.

Robert's fingers curl into hers. Holding them tightly, the only constant it seemed in this ever changing world. A world that seems to threaten her family at every turn. It wasn't worth thinking about how close she and Robert had been to being the first brick to crumble.

* * *

Edith's bubbling face was something he needed to see this week. He really did need the reminder that love and fun did still exist beneath the veil of gloom that had never left Cora's face for the last week. Ever since Matthew had said the word cancer.

He and Cora had fallen out two days ago—she had accused him of being unfeeling—as if he hadn't noticed that this would mean another of his darling girls was raising children without a father. Unfortunately for Cora, or maybe it was fortunately, he was more realistic than she sometimes. He could see that Mary had gone into this with open eyes, she had known this was a likely outcome and indeed she and Matthew were seeming to make the best of their situation. Yet Cora seemed to think she was responsible, that she should have found these things out and supported Mary with the matter more. She was worried now that she would look bad in Edith's eyes when she eventually ends up helping Mary with however many children she has when Matthew does pass from them, that Edith will think this unfair (she has had to cope with her Aunt for support). What was hitting her hardest though was the thought of Mary's heart being broken. Cora had been murmuring for hours at a time about whether she would be able to cope, her whole life and purpose of the last few years taken away and that was when he'd snapped telling her she was being ridiculously childish, Mary wasn't going to have a choice she was going to have to learn to cope, which was when she'd hurled the unfeeling card his way.

The problem was he supposed, their children had been Cora's whole purpose in life and now that things were out of her control she wanted nothing more to snatch the girls back into their cradles. He was, by comparison, able to see that life did take dreadful turns but that with family and friends around every obstacle was avoidable—he'd learnt that with Cora, anything was possible.

"You look gloomy Pa?" Edith falls onto the settee beside him, her legs swinging in the air as she pulls her scarf off. "Still haven't made up with Mum then?"

"No. You're looking chirpy though, nice evening?" She was glowing all over. Her tangerine dress was really quite something but Robert did wonder if it wasn't a bit over the top for the cinema and pizza he knew had been her 'date'.

"Very. Bertie is really quite funny although I don't think he means it half the time." She half laughs to herself and then stops, tipping her head back. Robert knew this meant there was a 'but,' a problem that was making her doubt herself, or him.

"But-"

"Nothing. It's still early days yet. I just, I can't seem to...never mind." She sits back properly on the settee, twisting the silk of the scarf between her hands. Edith was the daughter he'd always found easiest to understand. Her habits were a mixture of his sisters and Cora's. The only two women he'd ever been able to understand. She was quiet and honest and had a habit of keeping emotional things more curled up inside than anybody realised, something his wife and sister were both too good at. Then, in a wave of anger Edith would burst just like her mother and aunt.

The bright blue and orange scarf would not have been something Robert might have picked out for her but he could see that it suited her. It flutters and twitches of its own accord when she releases it and he becomes mesmerised by the way the dim light of the living room—he only had the lamps on—made the colours seem more green and yellow than they were.

"You can't seem to forget Michael?" She sighs at that, the scarf rising and falling as she shifts her hands up in the air and back down again.

"Funnily enough I can, very easily when I'm with Bertie anyway. And that's one of the problems. I don't want to forget him. He's the father of Marigold for goodness sake. I can't forget him. For her sake I must remember." Her voice seems to shake, her eyes looking far into the distance, wide and unblinking. When she turns her gaze to him he sees the wetness, the fragility that she kept so well hidden. He reaches his hand into her lap and is unsurprised when she takes it, her eyes following her hand, looking at their clasped ones. "But it hurts so much to remember and I love very much the freedom I have from those memories when I'm with Bertie. I forget sometimes that I'm even a mother and...and that's nice, I suppose. But well, who knows."

"Michael would have wanted you to be happy. I know it is cliché but he would have wanted that." She grips his hand affectionately and she nods very slowly, her gaze fixed on their joint fingers, a nail from her other hand tracing the knuckles of his hand.

"It's not cliché. You're perfectly right. He would have wanted Marigold to have a father too." He hadn't realised she was beginning to think so clearly about her future again. He knew, from Cora, that she had been very forward planning with how she was going to rent out Michael's flat and possibly move into it one day. He hadn't realised that she had also been assessing what Michael's more personal wishes might have been, wishes he couldn't write in a will. "But I just can't see quite that far yet. Bertie is wonderful, very different to Michael but I have absolutely no clue if there is future there and at this moment in time I still have my darling girl to think about." She stands, kissing him on the forehead. "And you Pa have more important things to worry over than my failed love life. You've got your own to sort. The two of you are complete nightmares when you're in disagreement so for goodness sake sort it out." Robert rolls his eyes but secretly he can't help but agree.

The problem is he was not likely to make the first move not after she had been so very insulting.

Unfeeling.

As if he was unfeeling! He always trod around the house like a feather, at the beck and call of any or all of the women he lived with, or indeed is related to. Above all else he had dedicated the better part of half his life to Cora and the girls, never complaining that sometimes he was pushed aside in place of the girls by Cora.

It's there that his thoughts stop though, that wasn't strictly true. Misunderstandings had led him down the wrong path before now, had resulted in perhaps the worse fallout of his marriage, his life. Thinking back on those months wasn't there even moments when he had thought, although never said, that she was unfeeling.

He finally stands with what can only be called a huff, perhaps it was time he admitted, he did so want her back. He'd kept himself at a distance, sleeping in a spare room rather than sharing her bed—just to try and prove a point. Maybe it was time he made the first move seeing as she clearly wasn't planning on it.

He's more than surprised, startled would be a better word, therefore when he stands up only to find Cora stood in the doorway, her dressing gown loose on her shoulders revealing the red silk he'd purchased her for Christmas. Her hair is loose too, the curls he so rarely saw cascading down her shoulders. Aside from her height she always had managed to look so tiny. Her figure doesn't fill so much as a third of the doorway—though it was a big doorway—her pale arms held together in front of her, long but fragile. As for her waist he could get one arm right around her back although he had to concede she had retained some of the weight from Edward's birth and he was pleased for it, though he may never admit that to her.

"Edith said you were still up." She walks further into the room. "I wanted to apologise for what I said I-"

He reaches out his hands to her and she clasps them. He doesn't really want to say anything. All he feels like doing is pulling her to the settee, or better still pushing her against the door frame and just kissing her. Somehow it wasn't even a sexual need, it was just to have her close, to smell the perfumes of her skin.

"It doesn't matter. I've forgiven you anyway."

"That's doesn't mean I was right to say it. You're not unfeeling Robert. No man who helped me through my woes twenty-nine years ago could ever be unfeeling." He half laughs to himself, stroking his finger over the soft curve of her cheek. "Now, we both need some sleep. Edward will no doubt be awake nice and early tomorrow morning." He laughs once more as she takes his hand. They walk to the stairs and its with no surprise to him at all that she takes a left at the top rather than a right. She wants to check on Edward first.

He goes with her and upon entering the cool room and spying Edward quite fast asleep he can't help but smile. When Cora leans over and adjusts his bedding before kissing her one finger and pressing it to his lips he grins still wider. He truly was blessed.

"Sometimes I can't quite believe we have a little boy." Robert smiles, pressing his hands against her hips and leaning his face over her shoulder, both of them watching Edward sleep.

"Yes. Sometimes I can't believe I'm married to you." He doesn't need to look to know she's rolling her eyes. "Did I ever tell you what happened that morning a few days after Edith was born and I told you that you weren't to touch Edith again until you'd had two hours sleep?" She swivels in his arms, taking his hands and moving the two of them to the door.

"Tell me in bed."

* * *

 _Edith had so far been so much quieter than her sister. Doctors and nurses might have put it down to he and Cora being more prepared for parenthood the second time around but Robert was well aware that at least on Cora's part nothing had changed. She is as attentive two days after Edith's birth as she had been two days after Mary's._

 _Robert himself knew he was more prepared, watching her feed Edith hadn't distracted him as it had the first time. If anything he felt perfectly comfortable lying beside her in the bed as Edith nurses._

 _"Are you disappointed?" His eyes fly apart, he hadn't realised they'd been shut, clearly the periodic awakenings to Edith were having more of an effect than he thought._

 _"Disappointed?"_

 _"Yes." Her fingers twist over Edith's blanket her gaze fixed firmly on their baby girl's nose. "About being outnumbered. So many girls." He raises his eyebrows and then finds himself biting his lip, fiddling with the edge of the duvet as he tries to think of a way to calm her agitation. "I see, you are disappointed." He shakes his head furiously—he'd dropped his gaze which had clearly given the wrong impression—adjusting himself to a sitting position and shifting himself so he can see Edith._

 _"No Cora. You misread my expression. I was trying to think of a way to prove that I'm not disappointed and I was also thinking about how sweet it was that you are worried about such a thing. Believe me when I say there isn't another man who's as blessed as I am. First you as my wife and now two beautiful girls." He strokes over Edith's forehead._

 _"But when a man has taken on a wife and he already has one daughter I know it would be nice for him to have a little boy." He shakes his head again pushing a stray curl behind her ear as she once more looks away._

 _"Cora. Don't get hung up on this please, it doesn't bother me. Besides, we have plenty more time and if I remember correctly you wanted four children. Who says one, or both of them, won't be boys?" He pushes his nose against her hair. Kissing her ear. She seems to give up her thoughts though and instead, with a very soft—not quite full smile—leans back over Edith._

 _"You still want that many though?" Her questioning eyes peer up at him again and he can't help but sigh rather grandly, an exasperated sound escaping from between his lips._

 _"Of course Cora. Goodness, what has gotten into you. I think you need to sleep." He reaches out his arms for Edith and at first she offers some slight resistance before releasing her._

 _"She needs-"_

 _"Winding. Yes, I can manage." She readjusts her nightdress before once more reaching her hand up to smooth over Edith's tummy. Robert shakes his head and lifts himself from the bed. He pulls the bedcovers about, helping her to settle, resting Edith in the crook of one arm. "Now, you sleep. Edith is not going to lie in yours arms again until you've slept for two solid hours." He ignores her grumble, the rolling of her eyes, instead he shuts the door behind him and makes his way down to corridor. He rubs gently over Edith's back as he does so._

 _Mary will surely be awake at this early hour, when she hears her father alighting for breakfast was her usually hour to cry out. She was on the whole a very well behaved one year old but in the mornings she did like to make it known that she existed._

" _Dada." She is stood up in the cot already, although no sign of any tears. One hand grips the rails for support as she bends over to pick up the toy that must have been what had been keeping her calm since she woke—Rosamund's dog—or as he was more affectionately called, 'Row.'_

 _"Morning Mary." He manages to sweep her out from the cot in one easy motion before standing her on the floor and taking her hand. She gestures that she wishes to be lifted, her chubby fingers tugging at his pyjamas but he shakes his head. "I'm carrying Edith."_

 _She seems to understand and upon reaching the stairs sits down and swivels into her crawling position, legs facing downwards before she moves. He and Cora had shown her how to take the stairs safely, and it seems she has taken it on board or, as Robert thought more likely, she still wasn't quite confident enough on her feet to think of walking them._

 _Robert knows what is needed the second he enters the kitchen and he grabs the banana from the bowl and takes the milk from the fridge. Mary liked to have fruit in the morning with him—she rather like mashing the chopped banana about on her plate and then eating what was on her fingers. She also liked to have a second, more extensive breakfast, with Cora when she came down. Cora had been breastfeeding Mary until the last few months, when the pregnancy and then Edith's arrival had been too much but the doctor had simply said that Mary could drink full fat milk. This was the part Mary particularly enjoyed as she liked hearing the sucking nose her special baby cup made and she could often laugh at the sound._

 _He leaves Edith in her carrier as he lifts Mary into her seat and passes her the items. She immediately tucks in and Robert returns his attentions to young Edith as the kettle boils over for his coffee._

 _A ring at the doorbell at such an hour therefore comes as quite a shock. It would only surely mean that there was a large parcel that needs signing for? He takes Edith with him to the door hoping and praying that Mary wouldn't cause a mess in his absence._

 _After fumbling with the key he is all ready to apologise to their rather mature postman only to find his mother stood on the step. His mouth falls shut._

 _"Oh good, you're up. I was worried I was too early." Robert doesn't even bother to gesture to his front, to his pyjamas, what would be the point? This was his mother, she wouldn't listen, nor would it make her feel bad about the fact really and truthfully she was indeed a little too early._

 _She finds her own way to the kitchen, or rather marches her way there. Nor does he find it the slightest bit surprising when she takes his mug of coffee from the sideboard and begins drinking._

 _"We need to discuss Cora." Her mouth forms a prim line. "I imagine she might be a little disheartened?" She pauses as if waiting for Robert's reply. But he can't form one, it seemed as though she had been spying, goodness, could she read his mind? "Only I imagine she thinks you wanted a boy. I hope you have told her you are perfectly content. A boy would be nice of course. But there's time." Robert only nods stiffly. She taps her glasses gently on the table as she looks up at him but he doesn't meet the gaze. The skin on the back of his neck tingles and he can't bring himself to look at her. His mother always managed to hit him right on the nerves. "I also hope you're going to make sure she starts taking her pill again soon."_

 _Robert is pleased he'd placed Edith in her bouncer otherwise he might have dropped her._

" _I don't see that any of this has anything to do with you Mother."_

 _"Despite my reservations your marriage is a successful one, I can see that clearly. I don't want it to fall apart becomes Cora is left at home day in day out dealing with more children than she can cope with. Two is quite enough for the moment."_

 _"I still don't see how any of this is your concern. I certainly don't see why you should waltz in here and tell me what you think Cora should be doing!"_

 _"Oh Robert! Keep your pants on. I'm trying to point out to you what you may not know. You work a lot. Cora deals with the children and it's a great deal of work. Two under fives will be harder for her to manage than she even thinks. If you add a third she will flounder and your marriage will follow. She might feel it is a necessary step in the hope of having a little boy." He turns away, exasperated. Mary munches away across the table, watching intently her father and grandmother._

 _"I appreciate your point Mum. I do. But I don't see that you needed to open it with Cora's contraception. That was too close to things far too private to be discussing with my mother." She only raises her eyebrows and cocks her head to one side._

 _"Yes. But I'm no idiot Robert. Roughly three months after Mary was born Cora fell pregnant again. It's easy to forget taking pills when you haven't been for months but if you remind-"_

 _"For heavens sake!" He bangs his fist to roughly on the table, Mary's eyes and mouth begin to shake with the beginnings of tears and Robert lifts her from her high chair. He lowers his voice, aware that he'd told Cora she was to rest, he certainly couldn't have her thinking he was angry with the girls. "Cora doesn't even take the pill. She has a reaction to it. You know one of those 'one is so many people have this.' She...never mind...this isn't a discussion to have. I'm not comfortable having this discussion." He rubs over Mary's back. Soothing his mind more than he is keeping his daughter content. She wriggles, though thankfully not crying, as she points to the ground._

 _"That all makes more sense now. So that's why Edith happened so quickly. You know Robert you should have really taken the initiative and used another method of-"_

 _"Mother. That's quite enough. I'd really rather you went home but I can't imagine that you'll listen. So please, just drop the subject." She smiles smartly, a soft laugh escaping her lips. Robert doesn't bother asking what that is about. He has two girls to look after, he didn't really have time for dealing with his mother as well. She was best avoided at the best of times._

 _"I'm only asking you to be careful. Moments of passion can easily be regretted, I'm just pointing out that if you don't keep your head clear you might be a man that lives to regret one." He pretends to ignore her, his mother was one of those people that gave up when she thought she wasn't being listened too. The problem is of course, she is far too near to_ _the finer points of his marriage than he would like._

* * *

* I have done a large amount of research on the topic and this is true for a tumour in the brain that redevelops in the same position as a previous tumour. Surgery is not carried out a second time and radiotherapy is too dangerous, therefore survival rate greatly decreases.

I would like to note at this point that I do love MM but this story was always intended to follow a version of canon, so here we are! Please leave your thoughts, it would be great to hear them particularly as I have just thrown us into the wind with the plot!


	26. Chapter 26

The sound of rushing feet from her office make it fairly clear his dashing to the toilet opposite their office hadn't been missed by Phyllis. Indeed, she probably would have had to have been asleep to have missed it. Bates probably heard the coughing from across the hall.

Not that it was really the coughing that was the problem. Everyone coughed sometimes, when they swallowed something the wrong way or drank too fast. But not many people could then complain of a metallic taste in their mouth. Blood. Nor did many of these people complain of the cause of metallic taste then being spat into the sink leaving a slithering trail of a streaked rust colour as it slips down the plug.

He chokes again, clearly the lump he could feel lodged at the top of his stomach was still trying to force itself free. His breathing returns in rushes, pants even as that mix of saliva and blood rush down the sink. Robert had seen enough of it from beneath his watering eyes to note it was brighter than the previous spit. Phyllis' hand presses at his back, tapping.

When he looks up though, expecting a soft expression to bring him comfort, he finds only a contorted brow and wide eyes.

"Fetch your coat. We're going to the hospital. I'm calling Cora." He's about to plead with her not to do that last part. To at least leave Cora in the dark. That wasn't likely though when all the women in his life seemed to be able to read him like a book and Phyllis, despite being the newest of these women, was no exception. She merely shakes her head. "Don't even think about trying to persuade me not to call her. If I don't I'll only tell her tomorrow."

With that she wafts from the bathroom leaving Robert to look at only himself in the mirror. His face was drawn and his eyes watery from the recent exertion. His hair, he is convinced, is more grey than when he left the house this morning and he can't help but feel incredibly old. His tie has shifted to one side and there's a speck of blood on his shirt.

Phyllis appears in the doorway again, his jacket and coat in one hand, keys in the other and phone pressed between her cheek and shoulder.

"Just a sec Cora." Her eyes shift to him. "Take your coat, I've told Bates, he's covering your meeting. And before you so much as ask where the car keys are, I'm driving." She slips straight back out the door, murmuring to Cora about 'blood' and 'coughing' through the phone.

Returning to the hall he finds Phyllis slipping her phone into her bag and retrieving her keys. She smiles at him and starts walking for the stairs.

"Cora is going to meet us there, she's just got to drop Edward with Rosamund." She swings down the stairs and he tumbles half obliviously after her. It was difficult to think straight when all he could feel was an odd burning in his throat where the lump had been.

Phyllis tells him to wait by the entrance while she races across the the car park to get her car. Her reasoning is simply that he's looking peaky. He doesn't respond, there was no reason too, she was right after all. The metallic taste in his mouth was refusing to shift and he felt somewhat dizzy his stomach really unbalanced. Beneath the odd burning feel in his throat was a duller ache in his stomach that seemed to always be on the edge if being a loud growl but never actaully let rip.

Robert is pleased Phyllis drives sensibly, not that he should be surprised. The smooth ride allows him to keep himself distracted from the feeling of sickness loaded in his throat. Phyllis is also rather good at small talk, and rather than letting them sink into silence which would leave him worrying and heavily focused on the dull ache he could feel everywhere, she carried the conversation exceptionally.

"Joe and I have been discussing holiday destinations. Do you have any recommendations?"

"I always liked Florence personally. And Venice is very pretty. Many of the larger cities in Europe can be stifling and hot in the summer. What were you thinking of?"

"Not sure really. We've been looking but nothing seems to jump out." Robert smiles at that, memories of booking his honeymoon springing to mind. That had taken him months to decide upon. He'd wanted something special without it being too boring or similar to his and Cora's other holidays.

"Have you thought about a cruise?" Phyllis scoffs.

"Isn't that for old people?" Robert laughs and raises his eyebrows.

"Cora and I have cruised since our honeymoon. All my children have too. We love it. I only mention it because you can see lots of places without having to choose a singular one and the entertainment and food is as good as in a hotel."

"And you've all really enjoyed it?" Robert is about to reply in the affirmative when he coughs again, a lump of trouble reaching the very back of his mouth and then sliding straight back to the depths of his stomach. "You alright?" Robert can feel the stinging in his eyes again and his stomach forcing contractions as he chokes. Tears of pain slip onto one cheek as he just nods his head in the mirror. "You're a hopeless liar Robert Crawley." He is mentally chuckling at that statement which was so Cora that if Phyllis had not been so clearly British, with no American accent, he would have looked up expecting to see his wife beside him.

He feels the jolt of the car as Phyllis lays her foot more resolutely on the accelerator and before he so much as recovers from his latest bout of coughing, although this one was thankfully minus the blood, the car heaves to a stop and Phyllis is out of the side and assisting him from the car in seconds. He wants to exclaim about not needing the help but being upright only made him feel more dizzy.

A set of far more familiar hands draw his attention all of a minute later as they climb the steps to the revolving door to the hospital. They smooth gently on his back. Each of her digits seems to find a tense muscle and he can't help but feel more relaxed.

Phyllis drops away from his right hand side and Robert leans his weight into Cora. Her arm grips his waist and she mumbles words of encouragement, about how worried Rosamund was and that she is sure Doctor Tapsell will find the problem. Robert himself is less convinced but he has neither the energy nor the desire to tell her so. After all, he couldn't upset her. He did think it odd though, when the doctor had already taken the precaution of a second endoscopy, that he was now back, over halfway through his treatment but his symptoms seemed to be worse. Far worse.

The plastic chair groans under his weight and he wonders at the point of them at all, there are so few people in a waiting area at a hospital—everyone was taken to the separate wards soon enough. Indeed, no sooner is he sat than he's following a squeaky pair of shoes and a blue scrub down the hallway that he knows leads to Doctor Tapsell. Cora still holds at his hand, her fingers a reminder that the burning in his throat and the ache in his stomach weren't all that existed.

Cora touches at his arm as he passes inside but he just shakes his head and she pats once more before falling into the seat opposite Phyllis. He gets ushered straight into Tapsell's office to find the mature man waiting for him; his back to him as he leans over something on the surface beneath the row of cabinets behind his desk.

He flops into the chair opposite the one the doctor would hopefully sit in any minute. He feels his body beginning to recover from the ordeals of the morning. His head spins less and the annoyance in his stomach now seemed like one that was more consistent with hunger.

"Mr Crawley! There's a problem?" His voice was one of concern and his exclamations suggest the meeting was wholly unexpected. At least Robert supposed that meant he thought his diagnosis had been correct.

"Yes. I've been coughing up blood. Really I just want to check that such a thing doesn't mean the ulcer is returning."

"You've still got some medication haven't you?"

"Yes. Two more weeks to go."

"The bleeding is just a natural side effect of the medication working on the ulcer. If you read the side effects section of the information that comes with the drug you would know that being sick and having a metallic taste in your mouth is very common. What colour was the blood you coughed up?"

"A rusty colour."

"Which sounds far more like it was was the remains of your breakfast than blood." Robert can't help but feel as though he is being bullied. A doctor was meant to help, to be concerned. Yet all Tapsell seemed to want was his removal from the property. "Mr Crawley, maybe I sound too harsh. You have a routine check up in six weeks to check that the antibiotics have down their job. If they have not, only then will I prescribe more. For the moment continue the course as you have been. I'm sure all will be fine." Robert nods blindly about to open his mouth and ask a further question—what if it was blood? But the doctor effectively cuts him off, having stood from his seat.

He walks away leaving Robert to breathe deeply before standing from the seat. He contemplates demanding the man back but he can't find the strength. He was the doctor after all, a specialist, he would be right and Robert had to be honest that he had never read that information guide.

Cora's bright face, framed by her dark curls jumps out at him. Her blue eyes are light and slightly glazed, a clear sign that she had been sat staring into space. He places his hand on her shoulder and her face immediately drops, the smile disappearing from her face.

"Is it okay?"

"Yes. Fine. Just a side effect from the medication." She nods and stands, clasping his hand tightly.

"Phyllis says you can have the afternoon off if you like. She thinks she can manage." He glances over Cora's shoulder to the other petite woman sat on the plastic chairs, with dark hair whisked up into an elaborate bun. She merely nods.

"Yes. I will. I think I need to rest a little." Cora wraps her arm around his and the clipping of her shoes helps to keep him in perspective. Something really bothered him about Tapsell. He always seemed so closed. So unaffected by the concerns of his patients. Robert had never been a big fan of Clarkson's but even Robert could see that he was a more amiable doctor. Although, he wonders, one was a general practitioner and the other a qualified stomach specialist maybe that was the reason for the difference.

"How about we watch a film? And I was thinking of baking brownies as a practice for next week, I was thinking of doing them for my talk." Robert rolls his eyes.

"You've made those brownies a hundred times. You don't need practice." She laughs beside him.

"Fine. If you don't want to eat them I won't-" Now it's his turn to laugh and pinch at her waist, which makes her jump delightfully.

"Of course I want them." He pulls her tightly against his side and kisses her forehead. Maybe a day at home was what he needed. Time to clear his head and relax.

* * *

Cora flits once more through the party notes. Goodness only knows why she was planning this early, but she was. She needed to, she supposed, when there was Christmas nine days after his birthday and Mary's due date looming early in the new year. And let's face it, it was the last first birthday party that was solely hers to plan, Edith had made it quite clear with Marigold's that she was in charge. And 'Granny' was to focus on only the simplest of things. But for Edward, well, for little Edward she could finally go all out.

"I can not believe you are still pouring over these plans." His hand runs over her shoulder.

"They are hardly started Robert."

"Yes and you have two whole months to go!"

"Yes and Christmas to sort and Mary giving birth to worry about." He kisses the side of head.

"How did the talk go today?" She smiles softly, and drops her pen onto the paper. It had been her first solo event for Phyllis'—and her—charity. Not only had she raised a little money, but more importantly she had taken a young girl's details and invited her to one of her and Phyllis' support groups—she'd admitted to being an assault victim, although not raped.

"Very well I think. A girl is coming to the support group next week." Robert sighs and strokes her back. "She said she'd read my story in the paper but that she thought the way it pointed at rape being the only crime was slightly wrong. She said that her assault had left her as torn apart."

"And you agree?"

"The charity is about helping these young women, and men, rebuild lives. Help them through the struggles. She counts as much as I would have done. So yes, I agree. But, it also went well for one other reason. You know I said Sophie had been delayed with her decision to be patron?" He nods, his brow contorting as he tries to decide where the conversation is going. "Well, she dropped in right at the end, looking rather fancy and asked a few questions. She totally took me surprise but the long and the short of it is that she's agreed." Robert laughs.

"Of course she did. I never doubted. You said she was all fancy, surely she knew she didn't need a Ascot dress for you?"

"She was between two visits. She'd been to a school this morning and was on her way to a afternoon walkabout to support Edward somewhere."

He presses another kiss to her temple and the shuffle of air on her lip tells her she exhales slightly as his finger smooths its way down the curve of her neck to her chin. His nail touches her skin at the point where he tries to coax her chin up towards his own. The pen she had been grasping makes a soft bounce as it lands on the notebook, her grasp having worked loose. When his breath tickles still warmer on her upper lip she closes her eyes. The touch isn't the one she was anticipating. It was soft, very much so, and loving. But it doesn't make her close her eyes harder instead she opens them to his grinning face, his thumb still resting on her lip.

"You're a terrible man Robert Crawley. Tempting me in such a way during an important conversation and then not following through."

"It's been some time since I've been able to tease you romantically."

"Yes." She chuckles softly, daubing her fingers at her neck and taking the pearl necklace between her fingers, moving the pendant back and forth along the chain. It created the sound like a zip being pulled down and up, she found it an easy distraction. "Well, I'm still worried about your ulcer. You've another week of medication and until you've come back from that check up after six weeks and everything is alright you are doing nothing strenuous that isn't necessary." He pouts his lips in that way that never failed to make her want to kiss him and she rubs his hand in what she hopes is a consolation.

"Kissing you is not-"

"Robert, how old are you? I wonder sometimes if you haven't been switched for a younger brother. You know full well how easily out of hand these things get." He huffs and falls back on the settee, pulling his tie from his collar.

"I wonder if we don't need a holiday." She raises her eyebrows at that. Sure, it had been over a year and a half since the cruise but Edward was still so little and that hadn't been a cheap holiday even with Robert's income.

"Oh?"

"Not even necessarily fancy or long although I wouldn't mind some sun. Just the two of us. The Caribbean was so beautiful having all that time with you."

"Yes, but-"

"Edward, I know." Her fingers grab at her necklace, a nervous twitch. In many ways she knew him to be right. Three nights would be enough, even she thought she could cope being away from Edward for that short time. Besides he was a lot of work, he was a baby after all and that did drain away any time left for herself.

"I was actually going to say that I think you might be right. But, we're not going anywhere until the new year and both your ulcer and Mary's birth is over and done with." He opens his mouth appearing to be about to mumble an answer when the doorbell rings, five times in quick succession and banging seems to threaten to knock it down. Howls of cries erupt from upstairs and Cora lifts herself from the settee with a big sigh, she'd only just got him to sleep.

The stairs are a slog in both directions, but worse on the way down when she's balancing her fidgety ten month old Edward in her arms, and the deafening screech from his lungs was hardly enabling her to hear whom it was that had caused all the disruption. When she peaks inside the doorway of the living room though she sees; the flaming hair in a wonky bun is unmissable as is the red cardigan and heels that clearly meant Rosamund had found herself a job in another boutique in London.

The stance Rosamund is holding in Cora's living room tells her that the anger that had resonated at the door had not dissipated as she'd entered the house. No, she was full out shouting over her brother. In fact, even little Edward who had begun to quiet starts wailing again like nothing on earth, his body wriggling and his head turned to the sound of his rather loud Aunt.

"And why did you not think to consult me on such a matter!?"

"Rosamund-" Robert's exasperated expression and his seemingly calm use of her name do nothing to make Cora think he's calm. Goodness no, his eyes flash and his cheeks are red. "It was not your decision."

"How was it yours? To allow a man to date your daughter when she has only just recovered from-"

"Rosamund-"

"Don't Rosamund me! Edith was depressed Robert. You have no idea what that is. And now, you just agree for some man we hardly know to take her to the cinema and-"

"I don't wish to upset you Rosamund but you must see those outings have made her happier. Reminded her that there is life beyond Michael and Marigold who have made the last two years stressful."

"I disagree! She needs time to recover herself-"

"You mean time to wallow in grief and pity. Yes, of course, that got you so far didn't it sis. Maybe if you'd seen more of the world you might have remarried and become less of a burden to the rest of the family." Cora had already stepped forward. She had already laid Edward in his bouncer, his tears were nothing compared to the break out that was occurring in her front room. The argument had moved so fast that she had struggled keeping up but as Rosamund's face crumples, her resolve gone, Cora finds her glare being fired at Robert, her sister falling into a heap on the settee.

"Take that back Robert." That signals the biggest trip upwards his eyebrows have ever made. His cheeks turn from red to crimson. His hand stretches in his hair and he makes to shake his head. "Apologise."

"It's true."

"It's not though is it Robert? Marigold means Edith will never forget Michael and at the end of the day he died a hero. Rosamund did not have that comfort, the only way to keep Marmaduke alive was through her memories. If she moved on she feared losing those." He hangs his head in that way that is him acknowledging he is being told off but it certainly didn't mean he was agreeing with her.

"It doesn't matter Cora. I'll go." Rosamund lifts herself from the settee, which seems to require a mental as well as physical effort. Robert seems to see this as well and steps forward.

"Cora is right Rosamund, those comments were well below the mark and off topic. But I don't think you, or really I, should be meddling in Edith's affairs. She is capable of making her own decisions. That was all I was really trying to say." She feels Robert's fingers slip into her own, a silent thanks for her more reasonable, stabilising voice in an argument. She says nothing, just takes his hand. Her gaze is fixed on Rosamund as she takes her bag from the settee and wanders to the door. The expressions marked on her face were not really ones of annoyance at being told off by her brother. Nor are they a mark of really being upset at those remarks. It's a haunted, ghostly look that means her thoughts are far away, in a past that was years ago. They were the same expressions that had plagued her usually colourful, cheerful face when Edith had been but a crying bundle.

* * *

 _She thought it was the rain; the thunder and lightening. But the more she strained her ears against that sound the more she could hear another. The bed shifts besides her and Robert sits up.  
_

 _"Is that Mary, or Edith probably? Do you want me to go?"_

 _"No. I don't think it is." Edith was only three months old and unlike her big sister she had settled into night and day easily enough therefore it wasn't likely that she was awake now._

 _She pushes the covers away and swings her legs to the floor. Robert beats her to the door. Sure enough, no cries can be heard from the nursery as they head towards that room and they both turn back at the sound of the noise again._

 _They both share the same bemused glare down the stairs at the same time. It was the front door._

 _Cora finds the footing on the stairs difficult, her eyes hadn't sharpened to the surroundings and her body was still sore in places from the birth—it had been too quick to not leave some nastier scarring—racing down the stairs in the middle of the night was not an option. She tugs her dressing gown closer to her body as her bare feet hit the tiling of the hall, a shocking feeling of frozen terror hurtling up her spine._

 _"What do you think the matter is? Who is is?" Robert's questions tumble from his mouth and they match perfectly the ones stirring in her mind._

 _"I imagine it's some poor homeless man who's terribly cold and terribly wet." He grabs the keys from the side table and readjusts the lock. The howling wind has hardly blasted through the door before a figure appears at Robert's side. A well dressed, smart, familiar figure._

 _"Rosamund!"_

 _"Congratulations brother dear." It isn't said in the teasing tone it should be though, oh no, her voice is flat, a whisper; dry. Cora immediately spies the tears shrouding in her eyes. The smudges of her makeup that show she has been rubbing and wiping. And she wasn't quite so pristinely dressed as the turquoise satin and high heels had at first suggested. There is a stain on her dress, possibly wine, and her nails that has been professional manicured have at least two hanging nails._

 _"What happened?" That is when the tears that had just balanced in her eyes spill right over. Her legs give way and she flicks her shoes off her feet, toppling. Robert reaches for her at the same time she does._

 _They get her to the living room, her loud, angry sobs echoing over the rain. She collapses onto the settee._

 _"He...he doesn't want me." Cora lowers herself onto the sofa by her side. Wrapping an arm across her shoulders. Robert stands very awkwardly in front of them, his toes pushing at the edge of his slippers and fingers stroking in tight circles over the hem of his top. Robert was always rather confused by the emotional nature of any woman, he had told Cora that on many occasions. His sister was no exception, she had once even joked that it was only Cora's emotions he could cope with._

 _Cora didn't need Rosamund to say that this conversation was clearly about Marmaduke. It was explicit in her remark, who else would she be worried about._

 _"Roz, I'm sure that you're wrong."_

 _"He-he hasn't looked at me since-" She stops, a wave of more tears overtaking her. She looks cautiously up at Robert and Cora gently nods her head when he shifts his gaze to her—waiting for her word that she would be alright with his sister._

 _Cora had a nasty suspicion she knew where this conversation was heading and she knew Robert would do something silly and brash, like try and fight with Marmaduke—which would not only leave him the bruised one, but was a situation probably not deserved. Rosamund and Marmaduke were both the emotional types, unlike her and Robert nothing was kept locked up when it came to feelings._

 _"Roz, tell me. What happened?"_

 _"Two months ago..." Cora hands her a tissue from the nearby box, this was going to be long night without having to keep stopping every time she cried. Cora really did need her sleep with two young girls in the house, every wink was much needed and entirely necessary. "I had a suspicion I was pregnant. I took some tests and went to the doctor and he...I was...WAS! Eeer! WAS!" Her fists pummel on her legs. Cora had seen this coming. Robert had taken Rosamund's declaration of no children two years ago very seriously, at face value. But Cora had known differently. Rosamund had explained to her that there was a chance it was just her body that had been deemed unlikely to be able to carry a baby to term. This seemed to be proving that. "Everything is in the past. We were delighted. I told Duke of course. Which was a mistake. Of course it was. But I was so happy. The baby I had dreamed off. We had talked about."_

 _Rosamund's tear streaked face looks to her and she can feel that her own expression is probably a perfect match to her distraught sister's. The moisture is stinging at the seams of her eyes, clinging to the lashes as it threatens._

 _"Then I woke in the night to the inevitable. I've never seen so much blood Cora...I can't stop having nightmares. And he was looking at me. Pity, that was all I could see. He didn't cry. I couldn't stop. And then-then, he hasn't been coming home until really late. Climbing into bed when he thinks I'm asleep but I can't sleep so I'm not." She breaks down again just as Robert appears in the doorway with a tray of tea and Roz's favourite biscuits. The baby monitor suddenly screeches, making them all jump and Robert heads straight for the door—it would be Edith wanting her feed. She was rather difficult as although she was waking due to hunger she wouldn't suckle properly until her crying had slowed and that didn't happen as a result of the feeding (she was due one more before eleven) it seemed to be only Robert being silly that calmed her._

 _Rosamund sips bravely at the steaming mug, the waves billowing up her nose and over her damp hair. Cora reaches for her own mug, what could she say after all to the sister and friend who had just lost a baby when hers were screaming upstairs. There was nothing to say._

" _The bedroom at the top of the landing is the only one made up at the moment Roz. How about you go up there and try and get some sleep. Robert can take you home in the morning."_

 _"No." Her eyelashes, heavy with smudged make up stare over the cup at her. "That's why I'm here. I don't want to go home." Cora feels her stomach rise and fall as her mouth opens and closes in a long breath. She masks the sigh of confusion and sudden deeper understanding. This wasn't really about the baby, Cora could tell that the more immediate problem was linked more directly to Rosamund's peculiar appearance—dressed as if she'd been out—on their front step. The baby was what Roz saw as the stem of the problem that had led to something more recent._

 _"What happened tonight Roz? Have you and Duke had a big fight? Why are you here?"_

 _"I want to stay Cora, that's why I'm here." Cora feels her eyes close gently, she wasn't going to get any answers tonight. "Just for a while. I need a little space and my two beautiful nieces to keep me company." Cora watches in amazement as she gulps down the second half of the boiling drink, she herself had only managed one sip. "I know you want answers Cora. But the problem is I don't know what they are. I'm searching for them myself."_

 _"One thing Roz, does Duke know you're here?"_

 _"He will when he gets home." She drifts from the room. The clip of her heels on the stairs the next sound that fills Cora's senses. She falls back on the settee; her eyes and limbs begging for sleep but her brain is trawling through memories of Rosamund and Duke—should she have seen this coming?_

* * *

AN: I go on holiday next Friday, but I am holding to update a day early, on Thursday. I'm not sure how soon after I get back (Friday 29th) I will be able to update but hopefully I will be able to tell you this coming Thursday. Because of the crazy few weeks I've just had I am no longer ahead with my writing either, usually I'm writing the chapter five or six ahead of what you are reading but that isn't the case at the moment—the one I'm currently working on is for next week! I'm hoping to get really far ahead on my two week holiday but we will see and I willleava a note to say how it has all gone.

I hope you will all stay with me despite the break! Your reviews and favourites mean a very great deal—they are the reason I am writing on holiday!

I howp you enjoyed this chapter, your thoughts (good and bad) will be much appreciated!


	27. Chapter 27

AN: A long chapter (the longest yet somehow) to tide you over until I return! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, I've been so busy getting ready for holiday that I haven't had a chance to thank you personally but they all meant a great deal!

I thought I'd leave you with some M rated Cobert for the past section although the Rosamund storyline there is going to be resolved!

I hope to post a chapter the day after my return from holiday which will be the 30th July, if you don't see it then it will definitely be the following day. Hopefully with that chapter I will have an idea of how updates are going to work from then on—depending on how much I write on holiday updates may be reduced to once a fortnight but I'm really hoping it won't come to that!

A review would be wonderful! Enjoy!

* * *

" _Yes Robert she is staying." That must be the third time Cora had said that phrase in the last twenty four hours. His mind is conjuring up the word 'but' again however he knows she'll only shoot him down which seems to be enough of an incentive for his mouth to fall shut. "It won't be for long just until she sorts things with Duke."_

 _"So you keep saying Cora. But we have two young girls. Edith is a couple of weeks away from being nine months."_

 _"And that makes a difference because...?" She swings around to face him, her examination of the DVD rack stopping with her sentence._

 _"Well..." His fingers twist over his knee, she always had a habit of putting him on the spot and although he was used to that kind of thing at work by other people he had always rehearsed and written his speeches and fully understood his investments and business, in the domestic situation being put on the spot was not when he fared at his best. It didn't help that tonight Cora looked more than slightly fetching in her nightdress and the loose cardigan she had thrown over it._

 _She had agreed rather reluctantly to his film night idea last weekend and now the children were safely tucked away they had changed and scampered back downstairs in their pyjamas like two naughty teenagers. He wanted to spend some time with her now that Edith was beginning to settle more comfortably into the Crawley household._

 _"'Well'...what Robert? There isn't a problem as you well know. Roz adores the girls and actually having her in the house works to your advantage. I know what you are playing at with all this tonight. You want us to get back to that routine we had that included making the most of times when the girls are asleep. Well, with Roz here she helps me in the evening and the day a week she has off work which means I will be less tired. All pleasing to you is it not?" He huffs, rolling his eyes as she finally selects a disc and slots it in the machine. She was right of course, when wasn't she?_

 _"What do you think the matter is, between her and Duke?"_

 _"None of our business. They will sort it." Robert had a feeling Cora was lying to him somewhere along the line. There was something going on that he wasn't being made privy to. He knew that getting it out of Cora would be next best to impossible, she would tell him that it wasn't her secret to tell. As for approaching his sister it was clearly not something she wished to confine in him about which probably meant it was because it was a feminine issue that she thought he wouldn't understand—which was probably a correct assumption. Or perhaps, she thought he would tell Mama about her present split from Marmaduke which would only bring about more heart ache and chaos for her._

 _He hears the familiar tunes of the beginning of the Dirty Dancing credits as Cora curls herself up beside him. His ears are only very marginally attuned to them, his senses far more heightened by the waft of Cora's perfume as she tucks her head beneath his chin. She shuffles so he can extend his arm across her back and around the curve of her hip. He comes across more skin than he had been anticipating when he realises her nightdress has bundled at the back and his hand ends up caressing her knickers. She doesn't seem to notice, her fingers still shift over the top of his shirt._

 _The first lines of the film he and Cora knew inside out—it was one of her favourites—from so many watches drift over his head. He tries so very hard to focus on the arrival of the family at the villa, Baby's sentiments as she steps from the car but Cora curled so close to him was too much of a distraction. It had been too long after all to have quality time to themselves. The girls took up an awful lot of time. It was true they had been together since Edith's entrance into the world but not as often as Robert—in his often too predictable male desires—would like. The darkened room didn't help, nor him being dressed for bed. His body was too busy telling him it was routine. What used to happen, why wasn't is happening now?_

 _"Robert, were you listening?" He jumps, the sudden invasion of his thoughts unwelcome._

 _"No. No, I-" He shifts awkwardly on the settee, the perspiration on his back becoming mightily uncomfortable. The background noise of the disc stops, she must have paused it._

 _"I was saying that I hope the girls grow up to be closer sisters than Baby and Lisa."_

 _"Um." He twitches uncomfortably, her soft breath against his neck such a distraction. He felt so bad, wanting her like this. It wasn't his way, it wasn't their way._

 _"I want them to have a brother too." That was finally a phrase that attracts Robert's attention. He knows it probably attracts it for all the wrong reasons at this present moment but there it was._

 _"Of course. There's still plenty of time for that though. I thought you wanted a few years break now before we have another a baby."_

 _"Well-" She shifts on the sofa, her finger tracing higher to his collar and the rough skin of his neck. What makes the colour rise in his cheeks though is the shift of the front of her nightie. His eyes drift from hers and drop downwards. He's surprised to hear her gentle giggle. She trails her finger higher, pressing at the corner of his lip. "Are you going to kiss me then? Seeing as you seem so taken by my appearance." Her other finger tugs him towards her from the collar. He wants to dispute, he knows he should tell her to stop. They were watching a film, not indulging themselves. "You're hesitating."_

 _He strokes over her cheek. The bubbling in his stomach doesn't subside but he doesn't really want to take advantage of her. He knows she wants to watch the film._

 _"I don't like feeling as though I'm taking over." She laughs again and starts at the buttons on his shirt._

 _"I love you and at the end of the day you're only a man. Why do you think I dressed in this, I wondered how long you would last." He doesn't need more of an incentive than that; the grin on her face told him all he needed to know—she'd been leading him on._

 _She pushes his shirt off his shoulder as he lets his hands take charge of him. Her arms wrap around his neck as he pushes her into the cushions. Holding her this closely, his hand already buried beneath the pink silk, resting on her stomach, tracing its way to her breasts he realises just how much she'd been leading him on. She had sprayed some perfume, but only enough to have originally spiked his interest beneath it was the scent of Cora and only Cora, that wafted from her skin. It was that beautiful scent that he could taste as he leaves her lips be with a flourish and presses wet kisses that never fail to make her sigh in a way that made Robert tingle, right down her neck._

 _Looking up to her face as he turns his lips over her rounded breast, where sweat was already clinging to the underside, his finger rubbing over the taunt cerise nibble, her eyes are dark and wide and Robert knows that he isn't the only one that isn't going to be able to drag this out._

 _He watches her blush as he licks deliberately on the underside of her breast. Her hands go slack where they had been rubbing in his hair._

 _"Robert...darling..." Her hips lift against his stomach, her fingers scratching along his shoulders as she tries to coax him back to her lips._

 _He obediently readjusts himself. Her lips are round in anticipation, her neck arched as she reaches up to him. He lets his lips settle on hers in a pattern, each press is gentle more like brush strokes. It teases her and she tries to trap him, forcing her tongue against his every time he moves away. He laughs against her cheek at her desperate attempts before kissing by her ear as he pushes the silk he'd bunched at her stomach up over her head._

 _"Um, Cora, you're beautiful."_

 _The silk falls over the back of the settee as he flicks it away. She responds to his statement in kind, her cool hands trailing over his chest towards his pyjama bottoms. He grunts in that way he always hoped he could hide. Even with Cora it made him feel self conscious and rather too animalistic. It always made Cora react though and the violent tug she makes at his trousers was a clear indication of her condition._

 _He sits up to help her tug all his garments down. He kisses along the line of her panties and lets his nose and mouth trace deliciously over the curls he exposes as he eases them away from her. Her hips lift instinctively into his face, her own face turned into the arm of the chair as various guttural noises escape her usually reserved mouth._

 _Robert could smell her, the sweet waft of her desire made his own tighten uncomfortably. He presses his tongue gently over the wetter folds, the nectar gladly spreading onto his slightly cooler tongue._

 _"Darling..." Her words are marginally more coherent than a second before but her breathing is still harsh, her chest rising and falling as she finds the words she wants. "I need you properly." She shifts her weight, moving her heat from his mouth and sitting more upright. "Sit around properly on the settee." She had been laid across the settee, his body over hers and as he sits around as suggested he is wondering what she has in mind. He finds out soon enough._

 _Her hands push his shoulders, so his back is pressed to the settee. They immediately change their course and tilt his mouth to engage with hers. Thus fixed, her tongue not letting him tease her as he had tried earlier, they make short work of reaching down between their sticky bodies and touching him._

 _His mouth inevitably falls from her hers as he puffs a large amount of air between their joined mouths in a grunt. She takes the opportunity to latch her lips to his neck and touch her slippery curls to his own sensitive arousal._

 _Her own sigh of pleasure reverberates on his neck and he knows, as well as she immediately shows she does, that the end is nigh. She lifts her body from him, fixing her hands firmly on the settee either side of his head. His nose and lips end up in line with the swells of her breasts as she finally shifts to let him inside of her._

 _His lips work viciously at her nibbles, it was only fair when she was plunging her hips to such great effect in the position he adored to make love to her in. She liked it too, that much was true. She always said not only did she like being in control but that the angle felt better like this._

 _She lowers her body differently, bending not just her knees as she thrusts up and down by pushing her bottom lower, towards his thighs. It alters his position within her and he knows full well the reason for her choice. He could feel the difference in pressure it must exert on her; on him his only coherent thought was to hold her there just for a second. He grabs her buttocks trying to pull her further into his lap. She gives into him for a second before lifting herself up again._

 _"Urgh, Cora!"_

 _She doesn't laugh at his outright annoyance. Her mouth is too busy murmuring a repeated sequence of moans and gasps against his neck as she repeats the same movement three times in quick succession._

 _When her fingers dig into his shoulders from the settee he knows she's getting closer but he fears not close enough. Usually he'd try and stimulate her to come with him but he can't think of anything coherent other than holding her fleshy bottom more firmly to help her increase the pace; all things that only really serve to maximise his enjoyment. He does graze his teeth over her nipple which manages to illicit a hard groan from Cora, but it is only by accident, her body having pressed against his._

 _He feels her body tense in that way he had been waiting for, it was only the first ripple but he knew he wouldn't take it. He holds her still, hovering just above his lap. His release readily washes over him, his sticky neck lying flat against the back of the cold settee; his eyes tightly shut. A kiss is dropped to somewhere beneath his chin but amongst all the perspiration clinging there, and the swells of her nipples on his collarbone his senses are already far too heightened to pinpoint the precise location._

 _What he can precisely pinpoint is the slight shift Cora makes into his body. A shift that pushes him gently back to the place she needs him. One of her hands, that had been trapped beneath his neck pulls into a fist and the other that had surprisingly managed to stay pressed to the sofa pushes harshly into his hair._

 _Her shift had done what she so desired though, her half scream, half groan of what he thinks his a mix of 'darling' and 'Robert' would make him chuckle if the hard ripples of her beauty weren't currently the centre of all his attention._

 _She is wet and very warm, enough to make him twitch inside her and for his eyes to open in a way that in many respects was more pleasurable than his release earlier. It was more satisfying to watch her nose crumple and her eyes close; to feel her lips on his neck and the soft wetness of her tongue. Watching her chest rise and fall, or rather struggle to where it is pressed to his body, reminds him of the initial reason for all this—his less than innocent glance down her nightdress. It was in these things that lay Cora's true physical beauty._

 _"Um." She murmurs against his neck, her body shifts so she sits on his thighs, her arms wrap around his neck, keeping her nestled against him. "We hadn't even got to the sex scene." It takes him a second to realise she was talking about the film._

 _"Well you are far more alluring and sexy than you give yourself credit for my love." She lifts her face, half a snort mixed with the blush rising in her cheeks._

 _"And you have hormones like a teenager." She's laughing though, a soft tingling against his neck._

 _"Only for you." She blushes again, her face lifting from his side. She's brushing her hands through his hair, the soft pressures she applies making him sigh. There isn't anything more pleasant though than watching her eyes. They are dark in the centre almost the colour of the pupil which is wide due to the darkened room. In the centre of the coloured pigment the blue is almost white, bright and completely gorgeous. "Your eyes are lovely." She rolls them in an exaggerated circle._

 _"You can't stop flirting can you? We just had sex on the settee and still you persist on trying to woo me." He laughs, moving a stray curl from her face he leans up to kiss her._

" _My only comment on that is that I'm jolly pleased we made this room into a sitting room just for us. I means I won't be embarrassed in the morning if such a thing had happened in the other room where the girls can go." She smiles softly before indulging him with her lips and tongue again. Her arms wrap around his neck and play with the hair at the nape of his neck; tussling just as much as their tongues. He passes his hands over her thighs and up her sides to her breasts, running his thumb softly underneath. He pulls away gently just when he can feel her needing to breathe._

 _"Look who's flirting now. It might not be verbal compliments my dear, but I know when your lips are presenting their gratitude." She pokes her tongue out just a little and rolls her eyes again. He laughs._

 _"You, Robert Crawley, are incorrigible." She's smiling ever so wide though and he can't let the little chuckle bubbling in his throat pass._

 _"I think it's time we got back to this film." He tugs the blanket from the back of the settee as she adjusts her position so she is not straddling his lap and can see the screen. She doesn't altogether untangle herself though. Her legs remain draped over one of his thighs, her toes dangling against his shins. Her arm cushions his stomach. Once he's got the blanket over them he places his hand on her thigh and kisses her forehead as she presses play on what is still a picture with credits along the bottom._

 _They sit for maybe five minutes and while Cora seems utterly absorbed with the film he thinks and looks more at Cora. That's until the baby monitor on the wall suddenly erupts with cries. She flicks the blanket away with a huff and struggles around the settee for her discarded clothes. The crying gets nothing but louder._

 _"Mama's coming. I'm coming."_

 _"Cora, Edith can't hear you." She doesn't reply, and Robert himself is suddenly on his feet when the monitor goes quiet. Silence. Cora's eyes widen and she mumbles a curse. Robert knew she was panicking, Mary used to wiggle too far beneath her covers to the extent they had been worried about her suffocating herself. The wide eyes turn to a frown as she struggles the cardigan on. There was a voice coming down the monitor. Rosamund._

 _"Ssh Edith, you'll wake your sister. I know you don't need a feed, your Mama only finished that an hour ago. And she's very busy at the minute, with your Papa, making naughty noises in the office room; I could hear them from the kitchen." So, Rosamund could hear them, that may have been a mistake and she knew jolly well that they could now hear her._

 _Cora blushes profusely from the doorway. But does willingly step back into the room when she hears Edith fall quiet. He shrugs his shoulders, there was nothing they could do except ignore Rosamund's looks in the morning. He pulls her back down next to him and readjusts the blanket._

 _It's only as she settles against him again and he once more can't focus on the film, that his mother's words from months ago spring to mind. Contraception. Three children being too much for Cora. She hadn't been back to the doctor (her appointment was booked for next month, they'd even discussed it) he knew that much and he certainly hadn't just used a condom. He closes his eyes as he rests a kiss to Cora's head. He could only hope he'd been lucky and that no baby would come of it. If it did, well, there was little he could do except support Cora to the best of his ability._

* * *

Robert jolts himself back to his reality. There was no point in getting hung up on the past. But he couldn't help viewing those days as peaceful, the days before the storms of his sister and mother that were quickly to follow. That memory seemed to be a strange one when he was sat outside Matthew's office waiting to be admitted (his earlier meeting had run over) but he knew the string of connection was the pamphlet on the coffee table beside him, it showed an advert for the west end production of Dirty Dancing.

Robert couldn't see that it was an overly popular production at Christmas time, but maybe he was wrong. The tinsel in the office wasn't exactly lifting his mood, this was going to be a difficult conversation about something he, and no doubt Matthew, would rather forget.

The door to his son-in-law's office opens and Matthew's blonde head bounces from behind the frame.

Robert follows him back in. The office is smaller than his upstairs and doesn't have the wall made of windows which he has upstairs. Instead the wall at the back of the room is entirely panelled in dark wood. Matthew's desk sits before it, lighter, the black swivel seat standing out against the shades of chocolate.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it upstairs, Mr Murray arrived to see me all at the wrong moment." Matthew lowers himself into his chair. Robert look at him, really looks. Nowhere was there any sign of the cancer. Nothing in the way he held himself said that there was anything wrong. He looked like any other young lawyer; tall and commanding, handsome. Cancer was the last word anyone would say about him and yet it was the first word Robert thought. Five years at the most. Five years when Robert, twice Matthew's age had received treatment for what was really a minor ailment; an ulcer wasn't anyone's fault just a bacterial infection.

"That's okay. It's nice for me to get out of my office occasionally." He lays the file he has brought carefully on the surface before him. There was no easy way of going about this. "The forms about your paternity leave." Matthew nods.

"I hope I filled them out correctly?"

"Yes. Yes, that's not what I'm concerned about." Robert pushes a stray pen about on the top of the folder. Cora always told him that fidgeting was a dead giveaway to him being nervous. He didn't need a giveaway this time. He knew he was nervous. "You've only selected to take the minimum amount which is fine. But I suppose it made me realise you will be working full time straight after that date for your return. Would perhaps reduced hours be better for you? Or more work available to be done at home?"

"Robert-"

"Let me finish Matthew. I don't want to single you out and let the cancer thing play a part in this but you must see that it does. I'm a father. A father who worked all the time, goodness in my day there was no such thing as paternity leave. The point is, I struggled at first to bond with my girls because of how little they saw me. I though, being fully healthy did the weekends; when they woke inconveniently at night. When they got bigger I sat with them at breakfast. This all takes time and energy. Energy that is precious to you." Matthew just sits staring at him, his lips in a tight line.

"I'm not going to argue Robert. I will not stop you finding a replacement when I begin to become very ill but please I have five years. Five years in which I want to be normal. NOT a victim." The subject was closed. Matthew never raised his voice but he had just then.

Robert fidgets very uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers pinching at the seam of his suit trousers just above the knee.

"Is Cora all ready for Edward's little party?"

"Yes. Yes, she's been working very hard. We spent last night dressing him and undressing him until she was happy with the outfit for him to wear." Matthew smiles widely and Robert chuckles to himself remembering how she had decided on some little dungarees and then tried four or five different t-shirts underneath. The bright red striped one she had finally chosen made him look, in Robert's mind, as cute (to use Cora's expression) as any of the others. But he wasn't going to argue.

"I hope you don't mind mother bringing Merton." It amused Robert that Matthew hadn't yet started calling him Richard, or better still the Dickie he had incurred as a nickname (he had explained to Robert on their last meeting that it's what his mother had called him to avoid confusion—his father's name was Richard too).

"Of course not. He's very nice and Isobel seems to get on very well with him." Robert could understand easily Matthew's predicament. He didn't want a replacement father but equally with his life threatening to be cut very short he didn't want his mother to be alone. Therefore he couldn't really voice his confusion or perhaps even upset that Dickie's arrival in his mother's life might have caused. Matthew huffs.

"Too nice. I fear Clarkson is disappointed." Matthew twitches his eyebrows at Robert in a move that he realises he is meant to understand. It was something Cora did; knowing looks with her eyes. Needless to say he only sometimes got them.

"Oh?"

"Um, mother has been dodging his dinner invitations for a couple of years now." Robert had known that Clarkson and Isobel worked very well together but he had not realised there was an unrequited love affair going on at the GP practice.

"Quite the love triangle then!" They both laugh and Robert stands to leave. He was meeting Cora at the campus of University College London in the centre of the city to collect her from the talk she was doing there. He also hoped to sneak in to be able to see the last few minutes.

She was getting very confident with the talks and her and Phyllis, since taking the details of a few individuals, kept in contact over email or even the telephone. They acted not as mentors but more like confidants, a person to talk to who didn't judge them and who understood some of the emotions involved. Many of the younger girls were also afraid to tell their parents; either the parents would worry or report the incident and many were too young and scared to want anything but a kindly person to talk to.

He collects the last few items quickly from his office, including his car keys and calling behind him to Phyllis he races like a school boy down the main staircase.

There was one advantage, Robert thought, that came with all the stress and responsibility of his work and that was the one now, when in a hurry he did not have to walk all the way across the very vast car park—his car stood at the foot of the steps from the revolving door.

It was a good time to travel; after the school pick up, but before the rush hour. He'd pulled into the car park and pushed the pass Cora had been given for her own parking—they weren't to know she enjoyed the tube—onto the windscreen.

Thankfully it wasn't raining so there was no worry about his gentle jog to the reception area just along the embankment splashing any mud onto his trousers.

The reception is large and open, two corridors leading off either side where students ahead of him were walking down; bags on their bags and folders clutched in hand. It made him wish he'd done a degree that hadn't been through the open university. He'd worked with his Dad the whole time he'd been doing his course. His father had bullied him into believing that he didn't need the university life; that he was above it all. He'd been too young and too groomed for taking on the establishment to argue.

The lady at reception greets him with his title and he sighs inwardly. This was not about him. This was just a husband coming to collect his wife. But clearly this lady knew a lot about the well to do of London or maybe Yorkshire. Although, he realised, more likely some big wig at the university had briefed her on who Cora was.

She points him down the right hand corridor and Robert weaves his way between the backpacks and couples. A head above most of the students he easily spies the door on the left that the receptionist said would take him into the lecture theatre Cora was using.

He pauses outside the typical school door; the two panelled windows affording him a look inside. Cora was stood at the front, a smart tan dress covered by her navy coat that had the intricate panels of floral embroidery at the cuffs and hem (the panels were from an original 1920's coat that had been worn by a past Countess of Grantham and had amazingly survived). She'd piled her hair into her head, a style he hadn't seen her wear for some time despite it having been her constant choice when she had worked with him. He had often admired the twists and curves that she folded it into, often attempting to find shapes in the mad array of spirals.

Her back was to him now, her hands gesticulating; the little black control for the interactive board in hand.

He curls his fingers over the metal of the door handle; the squeak of the hinges gives him away. Cora's head whips around at the sound.

Her smile reaches all the way to her eyes, the blue made brighter by the dusting of dark eyeshadow she had applied. She immediately drops her gaze, her head shifting back to the rows of students as the heat rises in her cheeks.

He could feel the looks of half the theatre on his neck as he lowers himself into the first row seat at the end. The seat was padded, which was a relief and the baby blue of the fabric complimented the beech panels that surrounded the walls.

Cora was on her last few points, summarising all the arguments and facts she had already laid out. She reminds the group lastly, that now as a registered charity (Sophie had arranged all of that when she had become patron—a royal name was certainly advantageous) they could raise money by doing a sponsored something or other and that she had forms regarding information and ideas if anybody was interested. Her final sentence was to open up the floor to questions.

She answers perfectly, not that this should surprise him. The main questions are about the fundraising and the potential plans the charity has for the future. Cora eloquently explains that the hope is to have the services that she and Phyllis are offering in other cities and regions of the country. She also repeats the services the ladies (there were now more than just her and Phyllis) provide—being the comfort and understanding whenever needed. This wasn't just rape anymore, thought that was always the main aim, but general abuse and feelings of uncertainty that young people may want assistance with in relationships. Cora sometimes spoke of small issues, but they were massive fro the people concerned, such as a partner demanding sex or forcing them to drink. They offered assistance on these matters too, though those patients usually only had one telephone call and all was sorted.

Robert tentatively raises his hand when there is a pause. Naturally, he could well be making a mistake, Cora could have easily already mentioned this. Her eyes fall on him, flickering with uncertainty but when she sees no other hands she has no choice but to ask for his question. Her accent is more pronounced with all the talking she had done; just like it came out when she was angry.

"It's a rather personal question I'm afraid. But I was wondering. You say this help is something you think is necessary and I agree but out of interest how did you cope with your experience without people such as yourself?" She twists the bracelet on her wrist, her head shaking softly from side to side. The sides of her mouth are flicked up in a grin. She knew full well that they both know the answer.

"I met someone," she turns back to the crowd, "a man who is now my husband and he was exactly what this charity offers; a constant unfailing support. I want to repeat that support, with an even deeper understanding of the emotions involved than he could have had, to other young people out there who are struggling. He's my inspiration in many ways." She shifts her eyes to the side as she looks up into the audience again looking for more questions. There are none but a mischievous feeling comes over him and he speaks without being asked.

"So, your husband, do you think he approves of all of this?" He wildly spreads his arms about the room and to the board. He can tell he's losing the teasing though when her eyebrows arch skywards and her head tilts to one side.

"You tell me. I'm sure as _my_ husband you have a better perspective on that point." He laughs.

"I do approve. Very much." He stands and walks to her side as she concludes, asking anyone who wants a sponsorship form to take one on the way out and anybody who wishes to leave their details for a possible private conversation with her at a specified point in the next few days could fill out a form.

The audience applaud and begin filing down the aisle. A great many take the sponsorship forms and leave eagerly chattering about what they might do to raise money. Some congratulate Cora on her very moving, personal yet professional presentation.

A trio of ladies stay behind, one of them watching the door anxiously as her class mates file out. She is small and ginger with a thin, taunt expression. Her hair is scraped into a messy bun. One of her friends looks up to Cora and seeing her smiling nudges the ginger girl in the ribs. The other friend picks up a sponsorship form. Robert steps to one side, the tentative ginger was eyeing him suspiciously, and asks the blonde what she is thinking of doing for the fundraising. His move has the desired effect, the young scared girl introduces herself to Cora and they begin talking. He doesn't need to know the exact words, Cora's gentle voice—as if she was talking to Edward—tells him what he already knows, the girl wants some help. The blonde leaves and he tries not to listen into the conversation Cora was having. He sees her hand the form to the young girl. The white sheet was only A5, Cora said it wasn't right to phase people by demanding loads of information, at the end of the day it was a helpline not a signature for a mortgage. All is silent except the scraping of the pen as the young girl signs. She hands the form over a minute later with a smile. Cora pats her hand and the two girls leave.

Robert grabs at her wrist as she reaches to pile the forms into her bag. He pulls her around to face him, his other hand slipping effortlessly onto the small of her back. He pushes his nose into the side of her up-do. Not only are the paths of the chocolate hair so beautiful but the smell was something else entirely. Lavender from her perfume and other sweet smelling flowers from her shampoo. Beneath that, hidden, only to be found when his nose grazes her alabaster skin is the unique scent that was Cora.

"You're very good at this."

"Thank you. I'm not so convinced you make a good audience member. You're rather cheeky." He laughs against her cheek and kisses it softly. He's about to turn her face into his, to seal her lips but the door swings open and a young man stands apprehensively in the doorway.

"I'm interrupting?" It wasn't really a question but his intonation made it sound as though it was.

Both he and Cora shake their heads and the young man advances. Robert steps away, busily tiding away the things in the table. He places the form the girl had filled out at the top of the pile. Her name was Ethel Parks.

The guy hesitates as he steps towards Cora. Robert recognises the look from Ethel earlier and he rubs Cora's back as he passes her.

"I'll meet you in the car." He finds his way more easily out of the building, the majority of the students having dispersed. The clipping of heels behind him alerts him to Cora's presence as she skips across the car park some metres behind him. She catches him up at the boot of the car, her fingers catching the sleeve of his jacket. She slips another of those forms into the bag he was holding—the boy had obviously wanted some help too.

"Don't run away." Her tug forces him to reassess his position and he turns to her. She takes the bag from his hand and slips it into the back seat of the car, her hand still clutching his own. His face must display a pout, or at the very least a clear expression that showed his confusion because her laugh tickles against his chin. "You didn't get to the part where you kiss me when we were inside." To prove her point she reaches up and kisses him.

* * *

One.

It was short, three letter word. Marked out in life by being the first. Anyone that was told they were number one was automatically the best.

Today it held more significance. It was a word wholly too small to be able to represent the year that had passed and allowed for her darling boy to celebrate his first birthday.

Edward was dressed in the denim dungarees that she and Robert had picked out. His brick red t-shirt peaking out at the collar and the sleeves. His blonde curls had lengthened and darkened a little and it was clear they were going to be the exact shade of his father's; a hazelnut with streaks of blonde.

He stares at the cake, his body instinctively leaning forward. Cora holds his podgy tummy firmly, trying to keep him pressed into her chest.

They are singing all around them, Edward still stretching desperately for the cake. It was a fancy cake that had taken Cora some hours to make. It was a simple Victoria sponge with jam and cream beneath the layers of bright fondant icing. The background was simple, just sky and grass but the main feature was a red train with a teddy bear as the driver. The bear was modelled exactly on the one that Rosamund had made for him and much like his eldest sister he had refused to be parted from it.

The chorus of singing stops and all eyes, and cameras, turn to his little face. Cora leans him over towards the cake, her cheek pressed to his.

"Blow Edward. A raspberry." He was awfully good at puffing out his cheeks and playing this game usually but he pulls away from the tiny little flame bubbling from the single central candle. Cora blows for him and everyone claps again.

Edward giggles and slaps his own hands together above Cora's head.

"Twain." He laughs again as he points to the red train in the cake. Everyone laughs and Cora kisses his cheek. His fingers curl around her ring finger and they squeeze.

Robert takes the knife from the cake board and holds it steadily over the cake, Cora places her hand on top and they cut down. There are calls from Violet to remind them to make a wish for Edward. Cora didn't need a reminder, she knew exactly what she was wishing for.

The week had been rather good. Robert's ulcer had been announced as sorted—his six weeks check up post medication showing no problems—and that had filled Cora with a buzz. They could finally think about where they were going to take a few days to themselves after Mary had delivered her baby. All was looking perfectly normal on that score too, no issues and a far healthier pregnancy than Edith's had been on occasion.

"Are we going to let him finish opening his presents?" That was Sybil with Tom in lurking by her side. Despite her and Robert's argument with her only the other night about Tom coming to the party she had not budged—she was more stubborn than her grandmother. Her threats had included a possibility of her going and living with Tom. With any other child the threat would be hollow, but not Sybil. Cora purses her lips, keeping her thoughts closed in.

"No. We ought to have some food." Sybil announces the same statement immediately to the room, directing them into the dining room for the buffet that she and Robert had been setting up most of the morning. Rosamund had been arranging the chilled items, that had spent the morning in the fridge for the last ten minutes—it would be wrong to let her efforts go to waste.

Edward protests a great deal as she moves him away from the cake. His fingers wrestle in her hair, mirroring the movements her comb makes when she's struggling to remove tangles. His knees press up and into her ribs.

"Edward. What are you up to?" He jerks to a stop as quickly as he had started wriggling. His father's hands tickling at his back. Robert lifts him easily from her arms. "You can't kick your mummy like that." He tugs at his dungarees and Cora can't help but let a wide smile spread over her face despite the tiny ache at the bottom of her rib cage.

Robert follows the others through to the dining room still gurgling at Edward. Cora absentmindedly follows along behind feeling rather shallow as she admires the breadth of Robert's shoulders and the length of his neck as Edward's tiny fingers wrap themselves around his neck, making the skin go white where he squeezes. It definitely would be nice to take some days to themselves.

Edward's high chair had been positioned at the centre of the line of chairs down one side of the table. As is always his custom he reaches forward immediately for the plates of food in the middle of the table; his face turning expectantly to hers when he can't reach.

She slides into the seat beside him and despite the original plan of a buffet, Mary quickly lowers herself onto a seat as well; the sweat on her brow a clear indication that her pregnancy was making her tired. Matthew immediately sits beside her—the first round of his chemotherapy had taken its toll and he was looking ragged, his hair already drifting from his head in places.

Edith and Bertie (who had decided to come much to everyone's excitement—although his decision had made trying to separate Sybil and Tom much harder) sits down next to Mary and Matthew. They immediately burst into a lively conversation.

Cora is distracted watching them, namely Edith with Bertie. Admiring the way that he laughs over the conversations and more importantly behaves so gently with Edith. He seemed from Cora's view to spend so much time seeing to Edith and passing her food that he was not eating.

Edward is devouring his third sausage roll and second ham sandwich—not that he was eating it quite as a sandwich—the bread was being squished between his finger and thumb and the ham was on his plate when Robert leans over her shoulder.

"Cora. You should eat something my darling." His nose is soft against her cheek. She turns and looks up into his face.

"I'm pleased you're here to keep an eye on me. I fear I was wallowing in my own thoughts."

"Not wallowing. I would say you're worrying about something." While he's talking he's placed a selection sandwiches on her plate and poured a more than generous glass of wine which he presses into her hand. She takes a long draught of the liquid breathing in the rich scent of the wine. It tingles in her nostrils and she takes another gulp. She could feel the panic bubbling over as se watches Tom waft a chocolate in front of Sybil's open mouth. She splutters her mouthful of wine back into the glass as her daughter takes the bait, biting into the chocolate. She giggles with such a carefree tone when Tom whispers something in her ear; Cora exhales deeply again turning to Robert who is now helping Edward with his drink. His eyes are still fixed on her over his head though.

"I was, worrying I mean, but there's not much I can do about it." She nods her head back in the direction of her baby girl. "I think maybe it's time I accepted it." The liquid prickles at the corner of her eyes as she's speaks nonetheless, her lip also quivers as the memories of years passed—Sybil as she'd progressed from a premature baby to a full grown teenager—slip through her mind. All of that was going. She was losing her baby girl. She knew that Edward should be a comfort, gurgling away beside her and murmuring her name but somehow he wasn't.

Robert's arm reaches around Edward's high chair to touch her shoulder. His fingers reach into the groove of her shoulder blade and she can't help but smile when she lets her eyes meet his. They had a depth to them that she can easily get lost in and today, mixed with the new found warmth of his hand on her shoulder it makes her smile. Somebody, at least, was looking out for her.

"She's growing up very fast. But we will sort it Cora and make sure we support her properly. I think we should sit down with her at some point and maybe it's time we spoke to her about serious matters if her and Tom are this serious." She nods, Robert was right of course and it was so nice to not have to speak any of it out loud. He was so good at knowing, guessing what was troubling her. Sybil was too young. Her life so far ahead of her, and exams this year. Boys really shouldn't be the main thing. Not yet. "Right now though, I want you to tell me if you think we are going to have another granddaughter or whether Mary might produce our first little grandson." Cora laughs softly, the ringing sound felt strange where it sat on her tongue as though it shouldn't quite be so obvious. But a glance to her right; to the little curls that bounce on her baby's head as he giggles too make her smile harder.

"I think a baby boy. Don't you Edward. Then you'll be uncle to both a girl and a boy." She tickles him under the chin as she takes the bite from the sandwich Robert had selected. Her smile turns to a grin when she tastes the salmon and cucumber combination, she should have guessed that he would have picked her favourites.

"And no doubt Edward your mummy wants to be able to give all the baby things you have grown out of to her little grandson." Cora laughs softly, watching Robert over Edward's fingers as she wipes off the chocolate he'd managed to cake all over them.

Edward was a very well behaved child, always, the problem was he wasn't quite so patient as the adults around him, not that anyone expected him to be. Therefore, as he takes the last few bites of his sandwich and gulps down a little more water from his special cup she isn't surprised by his insistence to get down from his high chair—his arms stretched up high—first at Robert and then her. She would usually lift him straight to the floor but having him crawl around on the floor was not really preferable when people were moving around the table and then pulling chairs in and out. His need for adventure would no doubt include crawling under the table and somebody was bound to accidentally hit his hand or foot.

"Ah, Edward. How about you come with Marigold and I back to the living room where you will be safe from people hurting you." Cora twists around meeting Bertie's expression. He had Marigold clutching at his hand and he was brushing Edward's cheek. "If your mummy agrees of course." His eyes shift to Cora. She nods, sure that her eyes are wide with wonder. The more she knew of Bertie the more she truly liked him. He was certainly an expert with the children. He lifts Edward easily and Cora passes him the teddy bear from the table and Edward's drink—he would want that later.

"Thank you Bertie. You're very kind."

"It's not a problem. Marigold was getting restless so I was going to take her for a play and then I saw Edward wanting to get up and you're both still eating so...why not?" He starts bouncing Edward on his hip pulling silly faces. Marigold laughs from the ground and Edward chuckles along, some stray water bubbling at his lips. Bertie wipes it away with Edward's cloth and continues making them laugh as he takes them both from the room.

Robert leans over to her, his mouth half full with salad and a stray slither of mayonnaise dangling on the cliff of his lower lip.

"I would say that Edith has found a very suitable man." Cora can't help but chuckle but not really about Robert's remark but the manner in which the mayonnaise drops over the rise of his lip and onto his chin. She reaches her finger over to smooth it away. She licks the droplet from her thumb before quickly turning away and swallowing half a mini sausage roll. His chortle beside her brings a smile to her blushing cheeks. Maybe the next few weeks were going to be tough again, particularly with regards to mothering Sybil but she would cope. She'd coped this far. Just so long as Robert didn't go anywhere.


	28. Chapter 28

AN: Thank you for all the well wishes for my holiday, it was lovely and I did get some writing done which should mean I can keep updates at once a week for now. I'll tell you if things change.

I will endeavour to catch up with everyone's updates soon.

I hope you all enjoy this update and a review with your thoughts would be terrific.

* * *

Regret seemed the most fitting word. This was all going to be awfully embarrassing and it had all come about because he had been stupid enough to mention the idea at Edward's party. Cora had not forgotten it. No indeed, quite opposite to forgetfulness she was going to put the plan into action. Today.

The moment Sybil entered through the house it would all start. Cora was going to sit with her and discuss it before she went upstairs to study.

"Cora I still think this is silly. She's been told all this at school." He turns away from placing the last items of shopping in the fridge to look at her. She is silently rocking Edward by the window, her mouth in a tight line and her eyes calculating. If she wasn't holding a dozing Edward she would be shouting. Instead she grits her teeth and Robert prepares herself for something much worse, her angry whispers. Her mouth always curled more harshly over the words when they argued like this. Every word was shorter and more crisp; twice as menacing.

"Yes but that was when she was about twelve and didn't have a boyfriend."

"But none of the precautions have changed Cora. God, they haven't changed since we slept together the first time."

"Perhaps not. But more is at stake with Sybil than there was with us. We were older and not-not...we'd had other relationships Robert." He laughs twice when she pauses in the middle of her sentence which only earns him a glare.

"You're bringing up her virginity as an overriding issue. Cora, be realistic, Tom is almost definitely a virgin. And sex for the first time with any partner is like starting again. Or are you telling me that because you and I were both older when we met and not virtuous that none of that was a factor for you." He watches her blush profusely; the white that had settled on her cheeks becoming a bright cerise hue. When she raises her head again though, her eyes are more penetrating than they had been even a few moments before. She looked terrifying.

"This isn't about us Robert. That was all years ago. The issue here is Sybil. It's not about her being a virgin, or even Tom's status regarding all that. I'm also sure her knowledge of the whole matter is sound. What I'm concerned about is her age. She is just sixteen. A year ago you freaked out when I allowed Tom to stay overnight here for her party and yet now, it is me that is the unreasonable parent for worrying about her possibly contemplation of progressing to a more mature, and now legal, level with her boyfriend. A boyfriend who, I might add, is a year older than her." When she put it like that, so plainly, without the fuss about silly things found in novels he knew she was right. He also knew that however much school had told Sybil the situation was now different and as parents they were responsible for Sybil not landing herself in a mess. He sighs and moves towards her.

"Do you want me to sit with you when you speak to her?" Her eyes sparkle with victory as she turns her attention back to him, Edward's chest rising and falling in sleep.

"That would be nice. As long as you promise to be on my side." Lifting Edward from her arms he leans over and kisses her forehead.

"I'll try."

The twenty minutes before Sybil's arrival home pass quickly enough. In fact, Robert finds himself so busy preparing the dinner he would have missed Sybil closing the front door—he had the radio on—if Cora hadn't touched his back and turned the music off. Personally he'd rather have it on, it might have taken the edge off the conversation they were about to have.

He'd been hoping this was the moment Edward would choose to start a commotion that would take him upstairs and leave Cora to talk with Sybil alone but, as was Robert's usual luck, all is quiet, his little boy was still napping.

Sybil places her school bag on the bar chair at the central island, removing her lunch box she places it in the sink to be washed. She launches, without being asked, into the events of her school day. Robert rinses the last of the carrot peelings from where they had clung to his hands and joins Cora at the table as she lowers the tray of drinks onto it. This was Sybil and Cora's usual routine; a hot drink before they both carried on with their evenings—one studying, one cooking.

"It's nice to see you home early Dad." Sybil slides into the seat opposite him. He doesn't like to admit that perhaps he'd rather have stayed at work if he had known Cora had wanted to have this discussion. He also meekly wishes he'd sat on the side of the table Sybil had chosen rather than the one he had chosen, for two reasons. The first was that it had the view our the patio doors onto the side piece of garden running down the side of the house, which means he could avert his gaze from Sybil when the inns were awkward. The second is that Robert couldn't help feeling nervous with the layout they had created. It seemed all too much like an interrogation. Him and Cora on one side outnumbering the single defendant.

"Yes, well, your mother and I want to discuss something with you."

"If it's my mock exam results school are sending them them in post. They had issues in the past with parents not getting them or something. Parents evening, which is in two weeks, means you can discuss them with the teachers." Robert would laugh if she wasn't being completely serious because he and Cora had never had any issues with Sybil and school. She had always worked harder, with a far better understanding most of the time, than either of her sisters.

"No. It's about Tom." He looks to Cora for some guidance as Sybil's eyes widen.

"If you're about to tell me he can't come this weekend I'll be very annoyed. We only saw each other a handful of times over the Christmas holidays and then all my exams are coming up."

"No. It's not that. We don't want to disrupt your plans. Your mother," he spies the look Cora throws him from the corner of his eye "and I, we're both concerned about how serious you and Tom are." Sybil nods her head. Her eyes twinkling with a look her thought he recognised. It was the gaze of love that had encircled Robert for years now—it was the same look Cora gave him.

"We get along very well Dad. I like being in his company and I've certainly missed him not being at school this year." Cora takes his hand under the table, smoothing her nail over his knuckles. It was her nerves showing, he knew that, but it was strangely comforting to know that he wasn't the only one shaking like a leaf. It helps him to realise that this conversation was better getting over and done with and that wasn't going to happen until he got to the point.

"Yes and with these feelings you've just talked of there comes a certain seriousness that will lead to mature choices. Life changing choices." He'd hoped Sybil would have been catching on by now and interrupting him, but she's not. In fact her silence suggests to Robert that maybe they were already too late. Her expressions seemed to suggest that Sybil and Tom had, at the very least, had this conversation. "You're very young. Both of you and we don't want you rushing into things. At your age safety, or lack of, in these matters can directly effect your future health." It's then that Robert finally sees realisation. His youngest daughter's eyes widen and her cheeks turn red. Bright red. So crimson that she reaches her hands up to cover them.

"Health. By which you mean sexual health." She closes her eyes at his nod. Cora's hand tightens harshly on his knee causing his jaw and mouth scrunch up at the contact. "You know I would take the necessary precautions Mama and that I would ask if there was anything I wanted to know." Robert smiles at the way she directs her answers at Cora. She had clearly seen right through to where the true worries were.

"Have you...I mean is there anything..." Cora's voice is so soft and quiet, Robert can hear the fear at the reply she is going to get in her voice. He knew that she was probably struggling to decide which she would prefer. No questions would mean no uncomfortable conversations but yet if she asked no questions it would only make Cora feel even more like she was being pushed out for Tom.

"Tom and I have spoken about it all. I raised the topic a few weeks ago. After my birthday." Robert takes a small gulp but it gets overlooked by Cora lifting her hand to rest in her daughter's. Robert sees the water that laces over her eyes. She had lost her youngest daughter too. "But we haven't and I'm not sure that we will for some months yet. Tom doesn't want to until I'm older; he said the earliest might be when I am a few weeks from my eighteenth birthday." Robert can't decide is the decision that appears to have been made is worse or better than them having already slept together. In many ways it showed a commitment by Tom that would please most father's if it was their daughter involved but all Robert could see was that this meant Tom at least was taking Sybil very seriously—to the point of building his whole life with her.

"And you're happy with that?"

"Robert what are you asking. Of course she should be happy." Cora's hand pushes at his thigh, in a mini slap as she speaks. Her head flying around and glaring wide eyed at him.

"Stop arguing you two. I am happy with that at the moment. Besides if Tom isn't lying about his plan of getting married before I go to university I don't want to have not been with him that way."

"Sybil stop! Married. Before university. I won't allow it!" Cora's frown is kept in place; harder if anything.

"You can't stop me Mama. I'll be eighteen." Robert finds himself blinking rapidly. Married? Eighteen? None of that sounded like something he would do. But this is Sybil, some rational thought shouts out, and it's the kind of thing she would do.

"It's true we can't stop you Sybil." Cora gasps beside him and he gently takes her hand. She looks as though she was about to bust into tears. "But there is money involved with marriage and then potentially living together. Neither you or Tom will be earning sufficiently."

"I don't want anything expensive. Just someone with a license." Sybil, he should have guessed has an answer to everything.

"How much have you and Tom discussed this?" Cora was staring away from them both, her eyes tracing over the assortment of magnets on the fridge. Robert was more pragmatic, he had a feeling that although Sybil was clearly well sorted with what she thought she wanted to happen there are many things that were likely to get in the way. Things that she could not imagine at the moment. Robert thought the first of those was likely to be Tom keeping his word. He was a young man and good looking enough that other women would take a fancy and he might not be able to resist all of them.

"Quite a lot. He's says it is how his father and grandfather had conducted their lives." Robert thought of the man who had driven him around when he was a boy. The same man who had taken him and Cora to the theatre and the establishment ball just months after they first met. The man who had given him such confidence when he came away from Cora in those early days completely confused. He was gone from them now, but he was a man Robert remembered with more warmth than his father. Tom's dad he knew less well, having taken to driving himself or taking the tube as often as possible and he supposed the man looked at him as the boss whereas Richard had known him as a baby, that changed things. "He's not forced me to agree Dad. I'm welcome to change my mind and never marry him or whatever."

"Of course. I would expect nothing less of the Bransons'. They are decent people. But I will repeat what I've said to your sister's. Marriage is difficult and worth long contemplation. In your case even more. You will be going to university and there will not be much chance of Tom being able to live with you if he is working and you're in different cities. And then you'll meet people at university-"

"Dad. I know. There's time. This isn't happening tomorrow. I'm not sure about it all yet, neither is Tom. You wanted assurance about the sex stuff and I've given it. We haven't." She pushes her chair back, not roughly (she seemed, annoyingly, still as calm as a cucumber) and taking her bag and her unfinished hot chocolate leaves. She mouths to him at the doorway to look after mum and then the next thing he hears is her footsteps on the stairs.

"Married Robert. Married. And you-you just sat there and looked as though you approved." Her hand comes down on the table before she stands abruptly from the table. The fridge is pulled open and Robert hears the distinct sound of the white wine from the fridge being opened and poured into a glass behind him.

Her hair is loose today, the chocolate lengths dancing at the middle of her back, exactly where (Robert knew) her bra strap sat. He knows he's spent too long staring at her back, debating his next move, when he starts remembering the last time he had seen it down and had studied it like he does now; it was before Edward had been born when they'd been on holiday. She hadn't worn it up everyday since he just had not taken the time to notice it when it had been down and that makes him feel bad. Her head tilts back as she takes the gulp from the bottom of her glass and the curls drop further down her back, dancing with different colours from the spotlights in the kitchen.

When her ring clings on the glass of the bottle of wine he steps forward and splays one of his hands on her back, just below the length of her hair. He takes the bottle from her hand with the other and leans over her.

"Let's not panic yet Cora please. Tom is a decent man despite what I thought before. Besides I'm almost one hundred percent positive that Sybil and Tom will think more realistically about things when Sybil knows what's happening after her A-levels and that's ages away. She hasn't taken her GCSE's yet." She turns to him then, and Robert spying her wet eyelashes, leans over and kisses her forehead. She gives in, her head falling against his shoulder as she turns around. Her arms wrap around his waist and Robert finds that his fingers end up tickling at her hair.

"I doubt it. This is Sybil. Sybil. Who wants us to think she's going to be all practical about it. I guarantee she won't mention it again until she comes home with the ring on her finger." Robert says nothing. It was true he had a habit of waiting until disaster hit before taking action, Cora knew that too. So did Sybil probably. But at this moment he had a strong feeling that he was likely to be right. Love was fickle. Particularly young love.

Some times passes before either speaks again. He just holds her. She does eventually lift head to look at him "How many days are you going to be able to spare from work for the holiday we wanted." He smiles against her head, pleased that she seemed to have, at the moment, accepted his reasoning. No doubt he would hear more about it when she was upset again.

"As long as you need my darling. Work is easy to sort. It's you having a balance between an actual rest and not just spending the whole time panicking over Edward that's important." She laughs against his chest.

"That's very well. But I know how you hate being away for too long."

"Not at all. I'm yours for all eternity remember." He lifts her left hand to his mouth and kisses the ring that he'd given her in the Caribbean. The ring that was an eternity band. None of it meant as much as the soft laugh she gives though. That was what he wanted in his eternity; her laugh.

* * *

Time always seemed to travel so slowly when a baby was in the picture. It was something Robert had said to her after Mary had been born and he had finally been re-admitted into the room after the nurses had removed him. He'd commented, leaning over his daughter that waiting seemed endless. Cora felt it now.

Her fingers curl around the blanket she had resting in her lap, Edward was buried inside it. She'd never felt quite so like a grandmother; on the edge of things rather than the central aspect. Mary had asked her and Robert not to come to the hospital after she'd called to say the labour had started: 'we will call when it's over,' that's all she'd said. She should have known. This wasn't like Edith; Michael gone never to return. This was her contrary eldest daughter who only had a few years left with Matthew as it was. This was their moment. Cora herself had refused the grandparents of her children to see the baby until she and Robert had spent some time with them. This was no different but she knew that having her own youngest not yet out of a crib didn't make her feel much like a grandmother therefore these small things brought it crashing down like a cliff falling into the sea.

So here Cora was, the middle of the snowy January night with Edward cradled in a blanket fast asleep in her arms. She'd taken him from the cot and tiptoed downstairs, leaving Robert having his shower. It had seemed a good idea at the time but now his weight was beginning to make the position uncomfortable and she daren't move him in case he awoke. She instead leans further back against the settee and buries her arm further into his cotton blanket. It has a woven edge, three ridges running parallel to each other above the seam. Within those ridges runs a pattern of trains and teddies; building blocks and numbers. She shouldn't have brought it, goodness she had so many of these blankets kept over from the girls but she hadn't been able to resist. The cotton also meant it was a perfect for use after his feeds when he'd been just a baby. She still found it terrifying that he was crawling about now and even beginning to think about finding his feet.

"There you are." Robert appears in the doorway and Cora turns her head away expecting to transfer her meek smile from Edward to Robert only for her mouth to fall open. He was stood in the doorway drying his hair roughly with one towel, another hardly wrapped properly around his waist. "I was worried but then when the nursery was empty-" He shrugs his shoulders and sits down next to her.

She runs a finger through the wet hair just above his ear. His hair was grey, an inescapable fact these days, but Cora liked it. When it was wet it still looked closer to the original hazelnut, particularly the parts around his face. She was also looking at his hair to see if all the tint he'd had added for a photoshoot he'd done last week had washed out. It had just been photos to put around the offices and advertisements but they'd wanted to highlight his hair and all sorts of other things.

"Did all the dye come out this time?"

"I think so. Why? Are you regretting the fact I'm back to being an old man?" He leans over and strokes his finger over Edward's cheek. She mirrors the action on his face. He tilts his head to catch his lips on her palm.

"No. I just, I quite liked it." She chuckles as he readjusts the blanket around their sleeping boy. "And you're not an old man. Not when your youngest child is only a year old." He kisses her forehead with a promise to be back in a minute after he's put some clothes on. She raises her eyebrows with a smile, she had thought it had been a purposeful appearance. Maybe when they were still just a couple, minus the baggage of children it might have been but not now. It was something that initiated a blush or a smile, maybe a kiss or compliment but that was as far as it went, most of the time anyway. It was a show of how natural and content they were together rather than a physical thing even if she did want to feel stupidly girly now she was about to become a grandmother again.

"About what you said about me being young just because Edward is small. Doesn't that have more to do with the fact you, my dear, are so beautifully young." She is at first startled by his reappearance in the doorway, much like before. He stands with his underwear and pyjama shirt on, struggling to get his trousers on while he holds the array of blankets they stored at the end of their bed in case of cold nights. She shifts Edward to one arm and takes the blankets. She anticipates him sitting down beside her but he turns away, back out to the hall. Calling behind him as he goes. "I'll make us some hot chocolate." She has to shift her attention back to Edward as he wriggles uncomfortably at the noise, his small hand coming up to rub his still slighter nose.

She begins to hum knowing that calmed Edward even at the worst of times. Sure enough he stops fidgeting before his eyes so much as open. She knows she should return him to his crib so he can toss and turn naturally in his sleep, all the familiar smells around him but she liked his company. It was silent company but comforting. He relied on her completely even when others did not.

Her musings must have lasted far longer than she thought because Robert appears beside her and dragging the coffee table from the centre of the room he places the two steaming mugs down. He then proceeds to rearranging Edward's carrier which he'd had hanging on his arm like a basket.

"You should put him in there to sleep before your arms start aching." She did not like to tell him it was too late, that her arms already felt heavy. She just lowers him in and falls back into Robert's chest. "Mary will be fine you know." She cocoons herself further into his side at the admission of the subject that was the constant, irritating hum in the back of her thoughts.

"I'm her mother. I will always worry."

"For Mary I fear there are nothing but worrying times ahead. The baby, at least, is going to be very well loved and the highlight of it all. These are the happy memories that are going to be so important." She nods in agreement against his side. A howl of wind makes him pull the layers further over them as he reaches for the drinks.

The mug was truthfully too hot against her hands but it doesn't stop her gripping it closer and even trying a sip.

"Thanks for the drink it's lovely." He kisses her forehead.

"No trouble. If we're waiting up for that phone call we're going to need it. But I did think now that the moment has come and we've got some time we could discuss holiday plans again." He reaches forward for the brochures on the coffee table.

"I wondered if we might cruise again." She had been thinking about their plan for a holiday ever since he had mentioned it and the cruises they'd done both in the recent and distant past held such lovely memories for her. He produces the right catalogue and she certainly has to admit that the glossy blues seas on the front page made it all more appealing.

"Caribbean again?"

"No. I don't think it's worth going out there for just a week and I won't leave Edward longer. How about the Aegean or maybe the Mediterranean?" He finds the right pages but after some further discussions over the unrest in Turkey and some of those ports of call that allowed access to Istanbul being changed for others that they had been to previously, talk turns to the possibility of just going to a hotel on one of the pretty Greek islands. Corfu was certainly easy to fly to and with some quick searches Robert finds it is possible for them to fly to Corfu and get a boat to Santorini (which was their favourite island).

"Why don't I meet you at work and we can call in the travel agents during your lunch break tomorrow?" She takes some long gulps of her drink, the chocolate was truly soothing as he nods his agreement.

The clock in the hallway chimes eleven and Cora finds that her eyes want to drift shut. Edward was still sound asleep in his carry case which Robert had decided to perch in the armchair. She leans against Robert, his warm chest was something she had never taken for granted nor did she think she ever would. It could be minus temperatures outside and still Robert would be warm. That was always a refreshing thought when she knew the winter was approaching.

"You sleep Cora. I'll wake you if there's something to tell you. It could be hours yet." She knew that was true, Mary had only gone into the hospital late that afternoon and this was her first labour, they very often took longer. Her own had been no exception; lasting more than twelve hours.

As though the world at large could hear her the phone shrieks into life in the hall and Robert races out to get it, Cora close at his heels. At this time of night it could only be news from Matthew. Robert puts it on speaker and Matthew's voice immediately answers their 'hello.'

"It's all over. Mary is fine and it's a boy. We want you and mother to come in tomorrow morning before work if that's okay with you both?" Robert's holds her close as he replies in the affirmative; his smile so very wide. They had their wish after all, a grandson as well as a granddaughter and somewhat more significantly Mary had been set on a boy so that was good.

"Oh and Cora. The doctor at the hospital who tended to Mary wanted me to say hello. His name was doctor Ryder and he said he knew of you. He hoped you were doing alright." Cora's happy nod vanishes and when Robert ends the call very quickly and hugs her to him she knows that he has remembered as well. Who wouldn't remember, if had been the lowest point of those early years. Heart break at its fullest. It was often far too easy to forget that it had all started out as one of the most joyous things in the world.

* * *

 _Her stomach bubbled. She felt as though she's drunk a bottle of bubbly. She hadn't but the state of ecstasy she found herself in certainly was more, better than, any alcohol. She was practically skipping along the pavement to the office. She wasn't going to tell Robert now, not in the office, but in her head she was forming the perfect, stupidly girly way to explain her current situation. After all she had failed so badly about it being 'cute' every other time. One time wouldn't hurt._

 _Deep down there was a feeling behind the sparkling that wasn't quite so pleasant. It wasn't unpleasant either, just niggling. It seemed to be trying to persuade her to hold off telling Robert, as if for some reason he would be upset. As if he'd worry that it would be too much work for her or that it was going against the plan that they had always thought was going to become reality._

 _The pram won't seem to move fast enough for her. She so wanted to see Robert and yet the pram didn't just slow her down physically it was a psychological block. Seeing her five month old lying back on the bedding, the hazelnut hair the image of her father's made her halt. How much time would she be able to spend with her Edith with the news she'd just found out?_

 _There were other worries too, about the general strain it would make on family life. But surely with Robert's understanding all would be alright._

 _As if her girl was listening Edith's mouth stretches into a yawn and her arms wrestle from the blankets. Cora slows the pram her maternal instincts overcoming her and reaches both her hands forward to twiddle her cheeks. Edith does indeed wake with less of a start but it doesn't stop her crying. Cora starts singing to her, they weren't far from the office now._

 _"Mama. Up please."_

 _"Mary I can't lift you up sweetie. We are almost to the office. I need to speak with Daddy." Mary was an extremely well behaved eighteen month old and she was young for having a younger sibling. Cora had refused to put her in nursery for more than one day a week and so she walked alongside the pram, clutching at her mother's hand. It was true she often grew tired of the attention baby Edith received but in general she was well behaved. Cora had contemplated buying a pram that could have both of the girls in but Mary's walking had grown so competent so quickly it hadn't been necessary as long as Cora paid close attention to her eldest and allowed for regular stops._

 _"Home."_

 _"No Mary not home yet. To Daddy's work. I need to arrange something." That wasn't strictly true she wanted to speak with Robert to make sure he would be home in time, all his work done._

 _"See Daddy?"_

 _"Yes Mary you can see Daddy. I'm sure he'll even give you a big hug." She jumps excitedly and Cora has to grab her shoulders as she attempts to run up the steps to the office, she really couldn't deal with her tripping._

 _Cora gets greeted in the hallway with the usual well wishes and a couple of the receptionists she hadn't seen in a while come out to say their messages to little Mary and to admire how much Edith has grown._

 _Cora eventually sidetracks the confusion to make it to the lift. The one useful piece of information she had gleaned was that Robert wasn't in a meeting and would be able to see her._

 _Elsie waves her through with a wave when they get to the office door, the phone pressed diligently beneath her ear._

 _Mary runs towards Robert's desk and he looks up immediately at her screams of 'Daddy' and lifts her high into the air. He carries her back over and peers at Edith before turning finally to her. His eyes are bright, sparkling and she hopes that is a good sign._

 _"To what do I owe the pleasure of my three beautiful ladies calling on me?" Mary starts bubbling funny phrases about their walk, she liked to try out the words she heard others saying, but Robert keeps his gaze on her, saying a random 'oh' and 'ah' where he thinks Mary is requiring it._

 _"I wondered if you'd be free to go out to dinner tonight?"_

 _"I'll have all my work finished. Who has asked?" She rocks the pram with her hands as Edith begins to complain again, she really needed a feed. This being so she ends up speaking more to her daughter than Robert._

 _"No one. I...um, we need to talk about some things." His head turns sharply and his hand drops from playing with Mary so diligently._

 _"Are you okay. There's nothing wrong?"_

 _"No. No. I'm fine."_

 _"Then the girls are being a nuisance. I know I've been working a lot recently Cora but I'm going to really try and make the time back up." She holds out her hand, resting it on his arm. She rubs gently, hoping that would sooth him more than her words were seemingly managing._

 _He lowers Mary to the ground and kisses her forehead promising to be home on time. He questions a babysitter but Cora gently reminds him that Rosamund was still at home. How he could have forgotten that Cora did not know. She had been with them for all of two months now. Marmaduke called regularly and they had lengthy conversations over the telephone. In the last week he had started calling at the house and the two of them spent hours talking. Neither she or Robert had found out the substance of the conversations; Cora personally wondered if they were discussing a divorce. They attended all family events together and seemed perfectly at ease but there was indisputably a ripple of displeasure between them. Cora couldn't begin to believe it was because of the miscarriage Rosamund had suffered. There was something else, something that had happened the night she had stood at the door looking like she was on the brink of hell._

 _She agrees to babysit with no hesitation and Cora promises only to be a few hours. She finds herself changing with little thought and before she knows quite what is happening Robert is calling her from the hallway, Branson ready and waiting outside._

 _The restaurant she's picked was a quiet little Italian down a back street in the centre of the city. It had a nice closed off area out the back which she had requested._

 _Their conversation is general all the way through the starter, they comment on the food, the girls and Rosamund. Robert talks of the office and how pleased everyone had been to see her. She knew he was waiting for her to bring up what she wanted to say and that he certainly wasn't going to force her to speak out. She's drunk more than half her glass of juice when she finally takes a deep breath at a pause in conversation while they wait for their next course and takes his hand._

 _She knew she shouldn't be nervous. This was Robert after all, her husband, a man who loves her. She was happy about the development. She was blessed. What was there to worry about, only Violet's wrath perhaps._

 _"This may come as some surprise Robert. It surprised me this morning. I wanted to tell you properly since I've failed both times previously. You see, I'm pregnant." She doesn't let her eyes shift from his in an attempt to understand the thoughts lingering in the orbs. The sparkle she sees as his mouth breaks into a smile certainly wasn't fake and the way he grabs her hand and kisses it wasn't put on either._

 _"I knew this would happen!" He laughs before kissing her hand again. "I knew immediately after that night. I sat there thinking 'I'm going to be a dad again.'" Cora stares at him in wonder leaning back in her seat and tilting her head to one side in a hope of understanding him._

 _"What are you saying?" He leans forward on the table, dropping his voice despite the fact they are completely alone._

 _"That night, on the settee in front of the film. I've been careful to use a condom since that night until you were going back to be..." She watches him waft his hands around in embarrassment and laughs "...sorted. But we forgot that night, which I realised after." He laughs with her before continuing. "And then your first appointment at the doctors was cancelled because you felt unwell and I wondered then. I went off the idea when more time passed though, thinking you would have noticed. I knew you were going for your appointment today so I figured if you came back with news this would be it." She shakes her head and leans back in her chair._

 _"You are one naughty man. You never thought to mention that we'd been silly that night, not using protection?"_

 _"It was too late. And aside from that strange feeling in my gut that we'd just made another baby there was a far higher chance you weren't pregnant at all." Their next course arrives; pasta for her and pizza for him. Cora couldn't work out what she was feeling, what she thought would be a shock seemed to be something Robert had been anticipating for weeks. He starts speaking again after a minute. "It's why I've been working so much. I've decided to start working two days at home so that you have another pair of hands when the new baby arrives. I don't want us to lose our way because we're living such separate existences. You and the children. Me and work."_

 _"Robert that's all very well but-"_

 _"You won't change my mind Cora. There's plenty of the things I can fulfil at home, the majority of the things I absolutely have to do can be completed in three days at the office. Many other jobs can be given to Bates. He's agreed and it's all settled. The plan starts next month to see how it goes." She can't help but pause halfway though swirling the spaghetti onto her fork._

 _"You decided all of this because you had an odd feeling that I might be pregnant? Before any conformation from me you thought this was a good idea?"_

 _"Bates and I had discussed it after Edith was born. He thought I should do one day a week at home. And then well-" He smiles over his pizza at her and she rolls her eyes._

 _"If you're reimagining that night while we're eating please stop. I'm beginning to think you just like me being pregnant because it means all my hormones play me about and I want you more." He laughs at that, taking a long swig of drink to stop his coughing._

 _"You're completely desirable to me always. Now, I think a toast is in order. To our growing family." They clink their glasses together and he leans over to kiss her. She lets him, goodness she needed it if she was going to face her mother-in-law and the heartbroken Rosamund about her news. She had a couple of months on her side before anything would show but it was still going to be an ordeal. Although it seemed that thanks to Robert and his plans it would be less of an ordeal._


	29. Chapter 29

_They had put this conversation off for at least a week too long. But there was no helping it. Robert had opted not to do it without Cora. This was selfish of him really, very selfish considering he was only doing so to save his own skin. After all if he was to face his mother alone he would be in for a lecture on contraception and keeping his passions hidden. He couldn't cope with that. As it was he knew that he wasn't going to be entirely saved. Violet would raise some eyebrows at both of them however much they tried to tell her it would work._

 _She taps her glasses on her knee as they enter the small, it's actually rather large, room that she liked to call her sitting room. It reminded Robert of the rooms at Downton, rather cold and uncomfortable. All the chairs were from the Grantham collection and had been moved from the Dower House that they had sold in his father's time. In fact when Robert looked at the way his mother had pulled up the writing desk to the corner of the room and set the table which had held the bell in the Dower house she looked every bit the Dowager she actually was. Robert found it rather weird, much of the rest of the house was very modern and yet this was the room she liked. It had been the same when she'd lived at Grantham house before he and Cora had married (his mother had moved into this house then), all the rooms had been modern aside from the room that he and Cora had since chosen as their sitting room—that room had been made out exactly as it might have been a hundred years ago._

 _"Are you two going to sit down or not." She gestures to the old settee. The fabric was worn at the exact points that people would sit. The frays of fabric making the item look far older than it was. It had all gone brown at those patches, parts of the stuffing showing through._

 _"You should have this reupholstered Mama." She raises her eyebrows in that way which never made him feel comfortable. It was the look he used to use before he sent him and Rosamund to bed as children without dinner._

 _"We've got to wait for Rosamund. Trust her to be late."_

 _"Rosamund is coming?" Robert should have seen this coming, the grin on his mother's face told him everything he needed to know. She'd already guessed all of what they were about to divulge and she was not going to let him off easily so she has done what he and Cora had discussed postponing, telling Rosamund and hurting her feelings. She was still living with them but things had improved with Marmaduke. He called often and took her out to dinner. It was like they were dating each other all over again rather than already being married. Cora had gleaned some information about her worries over another woman at work but that she had been wrong. The baby had only been mentioned once more, the conversation had left Rosamund in tears. The decision had thus been made that Rosamund would only find out at the latest possible moment. They planned it for a couple of weeks time but as usual his mother had other ideas._

 _"Yes. I figured if you were coming all the way here for lunch she should join us. And she's bringing your girls, seeing as I suspect you've left her to babysit. Besides won't it mean that you only have to tell your news once?" She raises her eyebrows._

 _Cora glances his way in question, her hand slipping onto his thigh in a way he knew she found very comforting and he found rather distracting particularly in front of his mother. He chooses not to move it, curling his fingers over her own._

 _The silence is awkward but Robert wasn't about to break it. He didn't want to show his mother how truly angry he was, that would only please her more. In contrast it was always better to make her think she had got her way._

 _When Rosamund arrives it is quite clear because Mary's baby chatter can be heard in the hall and the wheels of Edith's pram make a noise on the tiles. One of his mother's servants can be heard helping her but Cora stands, leaving Robert feeling suddenly bare and weak, she can be heard a second later greeting the girls in the hallway. Mary calls out for 'Mama to lift me,' and Rosamund can be heard cooing to Edith that 'yes there was mummy.'_

 _Cora walks into the room cradling both of his girls to which he quickly jumps to her assistance, he didn't want her doing too much in her condition. She argues that she is fine while Rosamund lays out some toys on the ground but he refuses to agree with her until she gives a look in Rosamund's direction (his sister was looking at him weirdly and even states under her breath that Cora holds both girls all the time). He drops the point he didn't want Rosamund to get more upset than she was likely to be any minute and instead admires the scene for what it is, a show of how good a mother Cora is. Overcome he wraps his arm tightly around her waist as she stands from placing the girls on the mat and shaking Edith's rattle over her head, and pulling her close against his side kisses the top of her ear. His mother was thankfully facing the other way and had missed the spectacle but he doubted she would miss the blossom on Cora's cheeks. Pregnancy suited her however much she might joke that she seemed to have spent every moment of the last three years with a baby. She blamed him, of course, in her teasing tone every night before she leant over and demanded that he kiss her in compensation._

 _"I would say we have a drink but I think it might distract us from the important discussions we need to have." His mother's gaze scans across the three of them before resting on Cora, more specifically, on the way her hands cradle her still flat stomach. "Isn't that right Cora dear?"_

 _Cora fidgets by his side, resting her hand on his knee again. He takes her fingers the same as before as she glances down at them for some comfort before returning her attention to his sister. The only person in the room who was ignorant of the situation because clearly his mother had guessed it, or perhaps it was more correct to say that she had predicted it._

 _"I'm pregnant again. The baby is due in May next year." Robert hadn't thought about the date very much. It did mean that Cora would be heavily pregnant for their seventh wedding anniversary which would mean he still would not be able to take her away as he had been planning since their fifth (when she'd been pregnant with Mary during the summer months he would have taken the trip)._

 _Robert couldn't make out Rosamund's reception of the news. On her face was a broad smile and her rushed words of excitement were certainly all Rosamund but there was something in her countenance, her eyes, that suggested she was more emotionally moved by it all than she was letting on. Whether that was emotionally pleased or deeply saddened that she would never fell the same feelings as Cora he wasn't sure. She wasn't in sobs though, which is what he and Cora had been concerned about. They thought it might bring back memories of what had happened but if it was she wasn't letting that show on her face._

 _"Yes Cora. Which seems to show a distinct lack of foresight on your part. A man can not be blamed for these things. But you, you should have had more sense. Returning to the doctor sooner and, might I say, keeping Robert at arms length." Robert huffs in fury and raises his eyebrows._

 _"Really Mama. Can't you keep your opinions to yourself? You're to be a grandmother again surely that pleases you?"_

 _"It does please me aside from the addition of another person to my Christmas list. All that shopping is extremely tiring. As for keeping my opinions to myself they are only opinions once they have been voiced before that point they are merely thoughts." Robert stands up, about to turn on his mother, this really was intolerable when a hand catches his wrist. The fingers were familiar, of course they were. They took him right back to the first date he'd taken her on, to see My Fair Lady. He'd never kissed Cora that night only held her hand. It had rested on his knee during the show and before that he had stopped her slipping on the cobbles outside. It was a night that stuck in his memory and at this moment it resurrected itself from nowhere, just the subtleties of her fingers._

 _He bends down on the floor his back to his mother. He knew what Cora was saying. Now wasn't the time. None of it mattered anyway. There was going to be a baby. He ignores his mother's attempts to bring him back into the conversation, which include her remark upon his new working arrangements 'all for a badly timed baby' and him acting as a toddler by ignoring her. She almost has him at the last one but Mary was bouncing on his knees and he couldn't push her off to turn on his mother._

 _Her dark curls shake with her giggles and she collapses on her back when he tickles her tummy. Edith was content in her bouncer, rattle in hand but even she dribbled a little of her last feed onto her chin when he tickles her toes and pulls a funny face._

 _"I have some news too." That was Rosamund and for the first time in ten minutes Robert turns around. He was hoping, goodness had been praying for weeks, that this would mean her and Marmaduke were finally getting back together. But he didn't think that was likely—their mother didn't explicitly know that Rosamund was living with them, she thought they were just going through a rough patch so it was hardly an announcement she would make in front of Mama. "Marmaduke and I have been thinking about taking a tour of America in the summer next year."_

 _"Thinking of, oh Rosamund dear, if it's not finalised it's really not important. Cora on the other hand needs all our prayers." Cora's brow creases as Robert watches. His mother could only be taken in small doses and his ten minutes of calming down had left Cora with the brunt of the conversation which had clearly had an effect—she'd reached her limit. Robert watches with more pride than ever from the floor as she ignores his mother._

 _"That sounds wonderful Rosamund, where are you thinking of touring?"_

 _Rosamund launches into the sights she desires to see in almost every state and Cora laughs at her enthusiasm. No doubt she was just overjoyed at the thought of Rosamund and Marmaduke having finally mended their fences. His mother looks on with more disapproval and at a slight, very slight, break in conversation she takes the opportunity to voice them._

 _"America is a vastly overrated place. You would he better going to Europe. Look for example at how their education on matters of sexual health differs from our own. Cora here-"_

 _"That's enough mother." He scoops Mary up from the floor and starts clearing away the toys. "I won't have you talking about Cora like that when it was my mistake that has led to the present happy outcome. We're having a baby and we are happy about it. That is all there is to say."_

 _"Perhaps so Robert. But don't let it happen again. You're both adults. That is all I'm trying to remind you. Adults with responsibilities to two young children already. They must come before your own desires." Robert doesn't reply, just loads Edith into the pram and hangs the bag of toys on the back, calling for Cora from the hall._

 _"For your information Mama. My children always come first. It is for them, all three of them, that I am now working from home two days a week." He holds the door open for Cora without a backwards glance. His sharp, juddered movements of the pram cause Edith to scream out._

 _Cora halts him outside the door to lift her out and comfort her. She glares at Robert over the top of Edith's head._

 _"Well done Robert. Was that temper really necessary? She was only being like she always is."_

 _"She was being rude."_

 _"Yes and you were rude back, which doesn't help."_

 _"So you're against me too?"_

" _No Robert I'm not against you. I just don't necessarily agree with your temper particularly when she has a point. If we thought we were able to cope with all of this you wouldn't have changed your working schedule. And to use her phrase, after this one I'm going to keep you at arms length for a while." He knew she was right, and he knew his mother was right. He had also been expecting it. Dear Mama always had a habit of seeing the black clouds more often than the white. "Or at least I'll try and keep you at arms length." He laughs at that. Her soft smile a clear indication that he wasn't really in trouble._

 _A large section of the walk passes before Cora speaks again. Robert had been suitably occupied keeping Mary on her feet and she calming Edith._

 _"I hope it's a boy." He turns to her as he hoists Mary up to rest on his hip at her instruction. It wasn't a statement he was expecting, a week ago she had shown no preference._

 _"You've changed your mind." She shrugs her shoulders._

 _"I want to be able to say that the Crawley's continue into the future with a young Master Crawley. You deserve that as do all the previous Earl's who have made you who you are." She has always had a regard for his ancestry that had never bothered him. She'd spent ages pouring over facts about the family and the furniture and paintings in the abbey. All in preparation for more detailed tours and guides about the house. The increase in revenue since Cora had been in charge of the Abbey; functions and daily opening all together, it had become far less a drain on expenses and actually a big profit._

 _"Cora we don't live in the eighteen hundreds."_

 _"No we don't. But nor do we live in a world where any one of our girls can inherit your title and your mother informs me there is still an entail in place on the estate. Mary and Edith can have none of it."*_

 _"No. But they get everything the two of us have in London and the rights to the business. Which does make up a vast amount of wealth. It's not like we have to marry them off like a hundred years ago."_

 _"No. I suppose it's just a sentimental thing. I owe you a lot and I feel it important we have a baby boy to secure a family as old as yours and Downton is your home. It's in your blood, I want you to have a son who loves it like we do."_

 _"Either way Cora, I love you and I love our family." Mary starts kicking at his stomach and he suddenly remembers they haven't told the girls. They are approaching the house and he thinks maybe it was time they explained to Mary. At the age of eighteen months she was far ahead of herself and spoke fairly often mainly in gibberish but some things were understandable. She'd certainly understood at a year old that Cora's round belly held a baby who became Edith. She would definitely know now. "Now Mary we're home but you're to stay with me a second while mummy sorts out feeding Edith and then we have some news."_

 _They all sit quietly in the living room some time later, Mary eagerly watching as Edith fed from Cora. She always liked to lean over when Edith was feeding and touch her sister. She was always gentle and Cora and Robert liked to indulge in the hope of forming a strong relationship between the girls._

 _After a minute he lifts Mary to his lap and places his hand with hers on Cora's belly._

 _"Do you remember before Edith that mummy's belly got very big?" Mary nods and waves her hand over Cora in the way the bump had been. They laugh. "Well, it's going to happen again."_

 _"Baba?" They smile that she had remembered the word._

 _"Yes another baby brother or sister." She rubs her hands over her eyes as she sometimes does when she is trying to remember something. She did it when they asked her where she had left a toy and she couldn't rightly remember._

 _"Charlie." Charlie was a friend she had made at nursery. They didn't always attend the same day (Mary only did one a week) but he was a little boy that she often gurgled about. She shakes her head after a second. "No Dee." 'Dee' was how Mary said Edith._

 _"Yes Mary it might be a boy." She nods her head vigorously. Obviously she had set her mind on a baby brother already._

 _Edith and Mary fall asleep across their laps on the settee later that night. Both he and Cora curling their hands through one daughter's curls. Their other hands are linked together over their third baby. At least the day had started better than it had begun. Very much better._

* * *

He places the picture away in his wallet. It was so similar to the scene of that night accept the girls were wide awake and older; Mary and Edith asyoung girls stood flanking their parents. In the centre though, laid in Cora's arms was not the unborn child that had been resting in Cora's belly that night all those years ago. No, the little baby in the picture in his wallet is Sybil. Tiny is the only word when a baby was two months premature—the picture had been taken in the pre-natal clinic.

Sat in this waiting room again he desperately needed the thoughts of all those people who were in that picture. The faces of family that he loved so very much. He knew instinctively that he should have come to Clarkson before and thus he knew that the symptoms he'd begun to feel again—stomach cramps and harsh pains—weren't being imagined. He did hope above all else that it wouldn't be too late. Clarkson would surely be able to help and then he'd never have to even tell Cora that he had come.

"You can come through Robert." That was Isobel, peaking her head around the consultation room door.

"Robert take a seat." Clarkson was clearing away the last few things in the room from the previous patient. His white jacket flaring behind him as he moves about the room so quickly. He wasn't one to beat about the bush and Robert knew many people that hated his manner of conducting a surgery but Robert found the brashness a comfort. In comparison to Tapsell's method, which had left him unsure and unwilling to ask on all occasions was definitely the least preferred choice.

He pins some prints to the cabinets which Robert dimly recognises as his endoscopy. He had told Clarkson they could be got from the hospital. He coils the stethoscope around his neck, knowing that he wasn't about to be checking those vital statistics. No, Robert's condition lay deeper within.

"I've looked at the endoscopy pictures from the check up after your medication. Tapsell should not have let you out of his room. Those ulcers were still present then and by now they are, as your symptoms suggest, flaring up again. The one on the base of your oesophagus was far from healed then." He slaps his hand on the image he was referring to, even Robert could see, with no medical knowledge the redness that penetrated from the pinker linings. Why had he never been permitted to see the photographs? Should he have been allowed to? Robert didn't know the answer, after all he had never questioned Tapsell's judgement until that day Phyllis had driven him to the hospital and he'd given Robert a dressing down about reading side effects of drugs. Then, when all had healed, or so he'd been told, he hadn't thought of the incident again until this week when he had felt the familiar knotting in his stomach again.

"I'm concerned you'll develop peritonitis which is where the lining of the stomach splits and leads to the bacteria spreading. If it enters the blood you can have multiple organ failure. This is very unlikely, I hope to step in first. After another endoscopy I will make a verdict on whether the remaining ulcers need to be surgically removed. As most of the other ulcers look less angry but I'm not ruling out internal bleeding at some point which may cause you to vomit blood."

Robert had read about that and he is sure his face must display that he knows because Clarkson sits down, flipping back the white coat from beneath him and clasping his hands together in front of him.

"Are you going to check the ulcers now?"

"I'm afraid not. I don't have the necessary items to carry out an endoscopy."

Robert nods gravely. Not telling Cora was not going to be an option. He had hoped there might be a chance of another course of drugs or better still, no problem. Although that last one he knew was a long shot.

"How long?"

"I'm hoping to tell you that on Monday. I want to carry out an endoscopy then. I would do it sooner but I can't fit it in. I am going to have two stipulations for that procedure. One that you have the sedative, the awkwardness of the procedure is bad enough with common ulcers the position of yours are going to make this painful. Secondly, I want your wife to attend. There's things she needs to know. I would take the procedure now but we have little time and you are not prepared." Robert stares at his shoes; the black points deep beneath the polished desk.

There are many things clawing away at his mind. But the most vexing, the loudest was banging hard against every side of his skull.

"If I had come to you the first time? Before Tapsell, would the same have happened?"

"I could not say. That ulcer at the base of your throat is the worst I've seen in my career. What I do know, looking at your records is that the medication he prescribed was not sufficiently strong enough and he should have increased the dose. He should also have suggested the surgical removal of the worst ulcers. In fact," his voice gets rather louder, and Robert can't remember having ever heard him so angry, "I have good reason to report his mistakes. He handled the situation hopelessly and has put your life in danger."

When the words were out like that Robert couldn't help thinking of Matthew. His life was going to be one that was drastically cut short and he knows their family did not want his being so too. He dreaded to think. Completely dreaded the looks he was going to receive from Cora when he went home and hold her the news. He'd be surprised if her heart didn't shatter in two. She would hide it though, as she always did with meticulous planning and her love for him.

"What are the chances?"

"I don't know until I've done a endoscopy. If you have peritonitis every second counts. The operation itself for that is well performed and carries less risk than many operations. The issue with the procedure is the timing. If too much of the stomach lining has been damaged by the ulcers or if they burst before Monday, which I think unlikely, sepsis happens very quickly. As soon as the infected blood starts its course through the body well-"

Robert thinks again of the picture in his wallet with a heavy heart. Would he get to see Sybil reach her eighteenth birthday? Attend university? Would he be able to spend more time with his grandson, George? What lies ahead for Edith and Bertie? Most significantly though his mind conjures up Cora's face.

The slant of her nose and the turn of her lips in a smile. The flashes of her eyes as she laughed, even as she yelled. Her hair, the loose curls dangling at her neck and cheeks. The roundness of her lips, smooth and inviting, waiting to be kissed. That took him back, right back, to a clumsy night he had almost completely forgotten but did hold one treasure. It had been the first night he'd touched his lips to hers.**

 _It had been a beautiful evening and Robert could only think of only one thing that would make this better. Six months was forever in comparison to his other girlfriends to have never kissed Cora aside from a couple of times on the cheek. He knew he might be slightly rude to have invited himself into her house after their night out but he couldn't bear not at least finding out her reaction to the idea. She was so delicate in these matters and he would wait for her, he would. But it would be nice to know how they stood. She is still holding his hand as she walks them through her kitchen-lounge to the patio doers. She throws them open and tells him to take a seat. She heads back inside for two glasses and the bottle of red they been working through for the last week—there was another bottle at his house._

 _He itches his knees as she flits about turning on the patio lights. Her dress was short tonight and danced over her mid thigh. He couldn't help watching how easily she moved despite the high heels. Her legs were usually hidden from his view so he takes the chance to admire them; the muscle at the back of her shin and the elegant slimness of her ankles._

 _"You wanted to ask me something?" She slips into the chair beside him and rests her head in the usual spot against his collarbone. He wiggles away from her, not placing his arm accross the back of her shoulders as he usually did. He twists on the seat so he can face her._

 _His heart hammers against his chest and he half laughs at himself. He'd never kissed her and yet he was as nervous as if he was about to meet the Queen._

 _"I wondered if you might let me kiss you?" He expects her to laugh but when he looks up he sees her face is as serious as it sometimes is in the office._

 _"If that is what you would like."_

 _"Only if you want to Cora. I do not want to force you." She does sigh softly then, her gaze flitting to his tie. "I see. Branson is waiting, I'll go." He makes to stand but she snatches at his hand._

 _"Don't be silly Robert. I was just trying to decide if a man asking to kiss me before he did it was romantic or not."_

 _"And your decision was that it was not?" She leans against him again as he sits down. Rubbing her hand behind his back._

 _"I think it's very sweet particularly as you've been watching me as if mentally plucking up the courage to kiss me for the last four nights out we've had." Robert blushes to the shade of a tomato as she chuckles softly by his shoulder. It was true that he'd been thinking about kissing her seriously for the last month—they went out once a week—but he hadn't thought Cora had noticed._

 _"I didn't want to launch myself at you and scare you. I'm sorry if my additional attention has been unwelcome." She laughs again, like a bell in his ear._

 _"Never unwelcome Robert. No man has ever looked at me like you do. As for you launching yourself at me I'm disappointed I will never see that. Finally, you could never scare me, I've seen you in the office. What is it that makes you think that? Have you been accused of being a bad kisser?" She giggles as she talks and Robert honestly wonders how he could have been nervous with her. She managed to turn every moment into light hearted chatter._

 _"No. I-I mean...no woman has ever said-" She places a finger to his lips which makes both of them start. Him because she'd never done such a thing and he wasn't expecting it and why she starts he imagines is her shock at the decision._

 _"I'm teasing Robert. I'm sure you're as good as any man, if not better. You were worried about my reaction to you being so forward. But at this rate I am destined to never know how you kiss anyway. You know there's a saying about not being able to miss what you don't have but there are certain things I miss about you that I've never known. Having you kiss me might well be one of them." She grins as she sits up beside him, her eyebrows arched as if she was asking him if he was willing to take up the challenge she was offering._

 _He takes her glass from her hand as he places his on the table. He traces his hand over her cheek before letting the palm rest on her neck. He almost releases his hold, her eyes having totally ignored his and instead followed his hand cautiously out the corner of her eye. He pauses and twiddles her hair between his fingers._

 _He had thought she had been hesitating but when her lips part softly as he leans a little closer he thinks maybe that she was just as nervous as him and couldn't meet his eyes. His caresses his thumb on her cheek and chin which he tilts to his._

 _Their noses touch first, her hand gently having coaxed itself onto the collar of his shirt where she had tugged him nearer softly._

 _His hesitates this time, overtaken by her breath on his face. It came, as he should have expected, in draughts. It was warm compared to the cold winter air when she breathed out but as she inhaled he felt colder than even his surroundings. She places her other hand on his opposite shoulder._

" _Robert, please kiss me, this is not meant to be a movie scene." He chuckles softly as she does. But does press his mouth forward._

 _Her lips are there. Softer and more hesitant than he might have dreamed about but the brush of contact was enough. They were smaller than his own but that was about all he could judge. He pulls away reluctant to try for more but her hand grabs the one he still has resting on her cheek and holds it in place._

 _"How am I supposed to judge if you're a good kisser if you don't show me Robert?"_

 _"If that's what you would like."_

 _"I'm not waiting until next week and I don't think work will be successful tomorrow unless we get this distraction out the way now." He laughs as she encircles his neck, drawing herself nearer to him and allowing his other hand to creep around her back. He'd never held her this close, his hand had never drifted anywhere near this low on her back. He occasionally rested it there to stop her falling over but the rest of the time they held hands and kept their bodies a distance apart even in that._

 _The pressure she applies as his lips grace over hers is greater than before. They feel rounder than he had realised as she lets him take her bottom lip between his, nipping his teeth into the fullness. He pushes upwards with his chin and upper lip trying to pry them open. They part with no reluctance aside from the mild tightening of her grip at his neck. Her fingers don't hesitate in hedging slightly higher as he draws away gently to let her breath before taking her lips to his again and immediately pressing his tongue at the base of her upper lip. She replies in like, dipping her lower lip closer to his own._

 _He doesn't push her any further, instead kissing just with his lips gently for some time and allowing them both to breath evenly._

 _He breaks away after a minute or so, her arms seemingly less content on his neck and her lips less eager to meet his own._

 _He wasn't about to complain though, she'd given him more than he could have hoped for and so much more than he deserved._

"Robert. Robert darling." Robert moves his head from side to side shaking the sound, that wasn't what happened next. What happened next was her teasing him about how good his kissing was and then star gazing and kissing for the next two hours. "Robert. It's me. You're alright."

Slits of vision appear to him. It wasn't stars though, or any of the rooms at Cora's old house. No, it was the whitewashed cupboards and metallic noises of Clarkson's office. It was certainly Cora by his side; clutching at his hand and talking softly.

A glass of water is handed his way as he slowly sits up, despite the reassurances of Clarkson and Cora that he could stay lying down if he wanted to. He knows he must be looking completely bemused when Clarkson gently explains that he had passed out half an hour ago and he'd called Cora immediately. She was naturally now fully aware of the troubles facing them.

"Are you alright? You were mumbling funny things?"

"I'm fine. Fine." He takes a long draught of the water pleased at the way it made the dryness at the back of his throat disappear. "I was just thinking about..." He glances up at Clarkson and then drops his gaze and voice, "actually it doesn't matter. I'll tell you later."

Clarkson seems to notice that the conversation is not one for him and moves away, slipping from the room a second later.

She leans closer to him from her seat by the side of the examination bed, hand still wrapped in his.

"Regarding your kisses, which you seem so hung up on. I'll tell you now what I told you then. They're beautiful, always." He blushes profusely, so he'd been talking while he'd been out of it. Goodness only knows what Clarkson had heard. "However, as lovely as they may be, your health is a far more pressing concern. Why on earth did you not say that you felt the symptoms returning?"

"I don't really know to be honest Cora. I know that's a bad answer, but I don't. It hasn't been going on for long. A week at most but-"

"It's alright." She takes his hands and when he says that yes he was alright to move they leave the surgery together. Clarkson gives them a time for a return on Monday and Cora asks Isobel if she could trouble them by bringing Edward and Isobel sitting with him. She agrees without hesitation, joking that she needed to remind herself of it all now that she had her own little grandson in George. They pass some pleasantries on that subject before finally escaping into the late afternoon air.

"I have some news of my own which seeing as we have a short car journey home we might discuss." They jump in her car and she immediately winds down the window, clearly to make sure he didn't feel sick again. "My tenants are moving out of my house."

Robert couldn't quite believe that, they had been in it since Cora had moved out just after their wedding.

"Really?"

"Yes. I wanted to know whether you think I should sell or advertise for another tenant? Or indeed, keep it empty, with Sybil and all her mad plans it might be needed." They laugh at that, but Robert himself knew exactly what he wanted to do with the house. Not that it was ever his opinion and he certainly was unwilling to express it until Cora said something, after all the house was entirely Cora's and she took the rent from the couple who had resisted there all this time. That money was hers and hers alone.

"It's not for me to say Cora. The house is yours. Purchased with your father's money and later done up with your own. It's from before our marriage and is still separate from all other income we have." He sees the quirk of her smile as she negotiates the traffic lights and takes a right. Her hand reaches over to touch his thigh as they immediately slow for the next set of lights.

"I want your opinion Robert. Firstly because you're my husband. Secondly because that house means more to us than a lot of other places in the world or at least it does to me...if you don't...what I mean is that all our firsts were there Robert and I guess I'm stupidly romantically nostalgic." They pull up on the drive and Cora cuts the engine but she doesn't move from the seat. Sybil had surely been left with Edward and they would be fine. Edith was still downstairs if there was any problems.

"It's not stupid to be nostalgic otherwise I am also very silly as I would like to keep it for the same reasons. I proposed to you there Cora. Kissed you for the first time in that garden. You opened your heart to me there. We-" He itches the back of his head, even at his more mature age and with Cora by his side he didn't feel he could mention those things outside the confines of their bedroom.

"We what Robert? Made love for the first time in the bedroom?" She arches her eyebrows and leans over the gap. Car keys jangling in hand she reaches up to kiss him. He blushes but more from her open way of expressing the thoughts he struggled with than the kiss. "I can tell you a first that didn't occur at that house."

"Oh?"

"Having a family and being married. We've made out married life here Robert, a beautiful one too. It is very lovely to realise that my last years as Miss Levinson still breath in that house though. So I should look for some new tenants?"

"Yes. Yes definitely. In the mean time though I would like to take a weekend there. Just the two of us." He could hear the cracks in his voice. The shakiness as he pictured the time he wanted to spend with her. Would he be able to do it with his condition though? Would he live that long?

"This isn't a life sentence Robert. Clarkson is a good doctor and he's explained it all. Nothing will happen to you and then we can go to my house and we can go on holiday just as we had wanted to. But not because you're got all up in arms about being ill." He loved her sheer optimism but he wasn't altogether sure he could meet it. She cups his cheek again and makes to turn away, swinging the door open. He grabs her hand where it trails behind on his side of her seat and kisses the palm. He had Cora and for this moment that was good enough.

* * *

It was beyond strange for Edith to seek her parents out after a night out. Usually she just came in and went straight downstairs to check they had put Marigold to bed as they usually did (they always babysat for her when she was out with Bertie). Edith certainly never entered the house with Bertie in tow either. Yet, here they both were stood awkwardly in front of her and Robert.

Cora immediately strokes her hand on Robert's side and catches his gaze. He looked equally worried that what they were about to hear was all too soon for Edith. A year and a few months really wasn't long enough to recover from becoming a mother and losing Michael.

"You want to ask us something?" Cora gestures to the seat opposite and they both sit down. Cora isn't sure whether her new found thoughts of Edith marrying Bertie were clouding her thoughts but they seemed to be sitting closer together than they had even at Christmas. Bertie's hand smooths over her knee and Edith's body was angled into his. They always said that body language was a dead giveaway and theirs seemed to be a fine example.

"Not ask really." Bertie leans forward in his seat. "It is more something I need to tell you." Cora wonders if it was this settled, they had decided to marry and that was that. Or they were moving in together? Already married maybe! "It's more something that has occurred with my family which I hope your background will help you to understand and even assist me." He seems to direct these words mainly at Robert and Cora wonders what on earth Bertie needed assistance with; it wasn't work after all seeing as Robert was no doctor. Cora's mind comes to a halt and maybe it was for the best imagining things was not helping her to focus. Robert had replied while she was daydreaming, staring at Edith's firm clasp of Bertie's hand while her thoughts tumbled. Had Michael ever sat like that with her?

"I have become the Marquess of Hexham following my cousin's untimely death and now have a large estate in Northumberland to manage and no idea where to start. Edith thought you might be willing to help?"

"I'm sorry for your loss Bertie." Cora reaches forward and takes his hand, he was clearly very moved by the whole situation and his first step being to seek advice suggested that he was also very nervous. She couldn't help wanting to pull Edith aside though, and ask what she thought of the new developments. Were they to her liking, what about the office that Michael had left her? Could she see a future with Bertie anymore? But now was not the time.

"Peter and I were the same age and very close. I must confess I knew the title would one day be mine, unless he outlived me. He had no siblings and the chance of him fathering children was tiny. He admitted his homosexuality to me years ago. I just...I suppose I never thought I'd be here now with the title and very little idea of what I'm doing. I thought it might happen when I was ninety or something." Edith rubs her hand over the back of his shoulder and murmurs about it all being such a shock. Cora has to stand and pace about the room, over to the window to look out.

Bertie having a place in the House of Lords changed things. Edith had always professed to wanting a simpler life than the one they lived. That was what Michael was about. He was as working class as a man came but he'd done well for himself. The army had been his 'duty' and he'd died for it. To go from being a soldier's girlfriend to a Marchioness wasn't going to be easy and certainly not if the estate needed some management.

"That would be alright wouldn't it Cora?"

"What were you saying sorry? I was daydreaming."

"Only that we could send Tom's dad to look over the books and the land and things and perhaps you or Elsie and Carson could inspect the house and plan to bring in profit with visits?" It always made Cora smile when listening to Robert refer to Charles as Carson. The man had demanded it when he'd taken the position of 'butler' and Robert had never not used it, or so she had been told. Richard's second job (after chauffeur) was the management of the land at Downton, he visited once a week to check all was in order. They didn't farm nearly as much of the land as a hundred years ago but at Downton they owned it all and rented it out but it was their ultimate responsibility to follow the law and keep the farmers in trade.

"Of course yes."

"You don't seem keen Mrs Crawley." She shakes her head from side to side. Bertie was more perceptive than most of her own children.

"I was thinking about how this will change things for you both Bertie. I can assure you I have no qualms in helping you with the estate. I will personally accompany Elsie as she wasn't about when I set up the programme at Downton so may be unsure of certain elements." She sits back down next to Robert and with some apprehension realises both he and Edith are frowning softly. She gives a quizzical look to Robert who merely retains his puckered brows. Bertie is the only one whom looks upon her sincerely.

"You're very kind. Your worries about Edith are not ill founded despite the look I see on Edith's face." He laughs softly. "This has all moved very quickly and like I said when I first asked Edith out I will not push her into anything and this development has been very unfortunate and I do hope it doesn't prevent our chance of happiness." He talks more to Edith who shakes her head and leans against his shoulder.

"It won't. We will work it out. I'd like to travel with you Mama, to sort Brancaster. Bertie should come too so we best choose a weekend. I want to know how you manage Downton from a distance and what I will need to know about keeping Brancaster in order in a similar way." Cora takes a deep, steadying breath. Edith's expression told her all she needed to know. This was all fixed, Edith had made a decision and she wouldn't budge from it. She might not be Bertie's wife yet but Cora didn't think it was long in coming.

"That sounds like a plan. I'll switch some shifts at work to make sure I'm free for a whole weekend." It was easy to forget that as a doctor in a hospital he worked awkward shifts, it wasn't nine until five.

He stands to leave, shaking their hands like a gentleman. Edith leads him back to the entrance hall and Cora finds herself noiselessly watching from the doorway. They hold hands and Edith is whispering something to him as they face each other. Bertie smiles in response and dips his face towards her.

"Cora, come away." Robert's hand hovers deliberately on her back. His breath soft on her back but so very close, so close in fact she thought he was only a centimetre from her neck. She turns into him and allows her to move her to the settee. "She's fine. Bertie is good for her."

"I worry she will feel conflicted and then will over work herself. She spends such a time with Marigold when she isn't at work and a child is a lot for a man to take on Robert."

"Bertie is more mature Cora. His work involves bringing children into the world and he's so good with Marigold. He's not about to cast Edith aside because of a serious relationship she had previously. Michael was going to marry her. Bertie must be embarrassingly relieved that Edith has been free to date him." She strokes over his shirt and turns, mulling over what Robert was saying. It wasn't that she thought Bertie would be a bad choice for Edith, the exact opposite really. But the speed of it all had made her question what Edith had felt for Michael. She seemed so very attached to Bertie so quickly. Had she loved Michael less than Cora had thought or maybe Bertie was going to suffer heart break he didn't deserve when Edith realised that maybe she was wrong to pass over Michael so quickly. Cora knew Robert and many others around her would call her pessimistic but she just didn't want either of the people hurt.

"Would you have taken me on, dated me, if I'd had a child?"

"I admit I might have disregarded you at first but then I would have fallen in love with you as surely as I did anyway and it wouldn't have mattered." He kisses her head and Cora can't resist snuggling into his side.

"You know it's not that which I really worry about. I worry that Edith has moved so quickly she is going to hurt Bertie when she realises it has to end. Or maybe she will start to doubt what she had with Michael which might impact on Marigold." He kisses along the curve of her head, spending some time at the parting of her hair. She wasn't sure what his silence meant, did he agree, did he not? It wasn't often she was left unsure with Robert but recently that had been different. She knew he wasn't honest when he winced in pain with his ulcers, saying it wasn't too bad when she knew it was. She knew he had been lying when he'd said he wasn't worried about the operation he was going o have to have or the exclamations of anger Clarkson made over Tapsell. She knew he was worried. And in just one weekend, two days, all could change. Robert could be in hospital come Monday lunchtime.

"I think you worry too much Cora dear. What will be will be."

"Don't say that. Being without you is not something I can face. Edith's troubles are not immediate in comparison. I guess worrying about you but not wanting to admit it made me panic about Edith."

"I trust Clarkson and you're here to help me too. A man couldn't ask for much more." Her mind quietens and she keeps herself tucked by Robert not daring to suggest they go upstairs to bed. It was a reaction to the thought of possibly, in the worst case scenario, being without him. Every moment was suddenly worth far too much and she wouldn't lose a single one if she could avoid it.

"Robert, can we do one thing, before...before you have your operation or..." She twists her hands about, "you know."

"Of course."

"I want to book this holiday we've been talking about. I want it all done." He nods his head slowly, bringing his hand up to his chin and flexing his fingers over the stubble. He sighs softly and strokes the silk of his trouser. "I know if something bad happens we will have paid for it but-"

"Ssh Cora. You needn't panic because it's already all booked. I did it today." She wants to laugh and hug him but she can't let the chance of teasing him pass.

"Without consulting me?" She covers her pleasure with what she hopes is a prim, tight, seal of her lips as she swivels on the settee to face him.

"I wanted to surprise you."

"At least tell me what you've booked." He grins widely at that, trapping his tongue between his teeth.

"Actually I've decided it shall be a surprise. It's rather special and I want to keep it that way." She rolls her eyes.

"This isn't our honeymoon." He takes the hair from one side of her face and wraps it around his fingers.

"No. But that doesn't mean a man is not allowed secrets."

* * *

* This is still the case on the majority of large estates still owned by families in Britain. Despite the monarchy recently changing their succession riles the law regarding titles and entailed estates remains.

**A lot of research went into the section about Robert's ulcers here. If you have any questions feels free to ask.

AN: Updates will be back to the usual Friday's now, I think I forgot to say that last week. Thanks for all the reviews and supporting me with this story. It's all greatly appreciated. I'm sorry I didn't reply to any reviews this week, I will do double this week, it has just been a hectic week back after being away two weeks! As always a review for this chapter inspires me to write the next even if it's as short as 'love/hate'—I know lots of you are on holiday and/or just short of time in general!


	30. Chapter 30

_Hyde Park was always pleasant; the vast expanse of green grass and the trees and paths that curved in random directions was a favourite destination of hers and Robert's to take the girls for picnics. To get to the beach was far too long a journey when Mary and Edith were so young._

 _Cora laughs as she watches Mary skipping along with her ball, trying to hit Robert as she throws it about. Robert keeps lunging at her and when he catches her he tickles her before lifting her high into the air to the sound of Mary's squeals._

 _Edith in contrast was perfectly content in her lap and Cora was equally fortunate to be able to stoke her curls. It was a silly, insignificant thing that she lived to do to both her girls although Mary had grown rather stubborn as she headed closer to two and jumped away when Cora tried to ruffle them. She seemed more relaxed with her father which didn't make Cora jealous, not really, but she did hope that Edith, or maybe the unborn baby would take a sharper liking to her._

 _Edith wriggles every time Mary screamed out, it was a distraction to her slummer, although Cora was aware she was going to wake any minute for her feed._

 _Cora loved to people spot when she came to the park. Today was no exception. An hour or so earlier a young couple beneath a tree in her vision had stolen her attention as they kissed and laughed. The man had been as daring as to pull the lady on top of him at one point. They had reminded Cora of those years before the children. Her and Robert, they'd done that; laughed until they hurt and kissed until they couldn't feel their lips. With a sigh she had averted her gaze. She needed a holiday but that wasn't likely to come anytime soon._

 _Thankfully her thoughts had wandered to less depressing things as she'd changed her position to watch two young women (sister's she thought) negotiate motherhood. Each had a pushchair and a young baby. One was a baby boy of maybe three months who screamed and cried like no baby she had heard; neither of her girls had been particular cry babies. The other, a girl of maybe two months was silent near constantly._

 _As Edith awakens for her feed though it is the school trip passing through the park that capture her attention. She laughs to herself as she remembers similar school trips. They were much the same. A long sprawl of students behind the teacher; the diligent ones at the front (which she had to admit had been her place) and the scruffier ones at the back, dragging their feet and making rude gestures and remarks._

 _She has to adjust herself as Edith begins to whimper at her breast, she really did need to feed. Robert and Mary are beside her, readily munching the sandwiches when she turns swiftly at a sound from behind her. To be specific a voice. Edith immediately screams, the jostling disturbing her feed, snapping her attention back to the present._

 _"Are you okay Cora?" She nods meekly, gently turning to see if she can see the owner of the voice. "Cora?"_

 _"Yes. Fine. Fine." Robert had been overprotective ever since the visit a week ago to his mother's when they had announced she was pregnant. He seemed to think that she was suddenly going to drop dead from the shock of his mother being so blunt about how they should have been more careful. So far though Cora was finding this pregnancy more comfortable than the last two. Having said that, she wasn't about to admit the rest of life going on around her was better than the other times. Having two little girls at home was making the times without Robert quickly wearing and she was beyond pleased he was now home two days a week, if made things slightly more bearable except when he was being stupidly oversensitive about her._

 _"If you're not we can go home." She reaches over and clasps his hand, forcing him to look at her._

 _"I'm fine. I wouldn't mind walking about a bit after Edith has fed though." Mary leans over the basket, peering inside, asking for more food. Robert lifts her swiftly into his lap and they lean over the containers together as Robert tells her what is in each while she decides what she would most like._

 _Cora can feel his gaze hot on her back as she gently walks Edith about to wind her. Every time she looks up he is watching her although he tries to avert his gaze._

 _She's about to sit down when she hears the voice again. She strains her head around, like a cat might as she tries to block out all the sounds around her except the one she is listening for._

 _"Cora?" She bats her hand in his direction, telling him to sit and handing him Edith in the process._

 _"I think I heard Marmaduke."_

 _"Marmaduke-" She holds up her hand and he silences. Mary squawks about a drink which thankfully takes Robert back to her._

 _Cora steps tentatively towards the tree that was to the right of their picnic rugs. They had been in the shade of its branches earlier but now the sun had moved and was persistent about blocking her vision. The rustle of the leaves in the breeze also means that she can't rightly be sure that she was hearing Marmaduke and that she isn't just imagining it._

 _Walking beneath the tree, the shadows of the leaves throwing their funny dappling effect onto her bare feet, seeing becomes suddenly more difficult as her eyes struggle to adjust after the brightness of the sun. It becomes quieter beneath the expanse of leaves though and cooler._

 _She stops suddenly, the soft laugh coming from the other side of the tree followed by Marmaduke's more bass gruff bringing her up short._

 _Her hand grazes on the sharp bark. A loose piece falls to the ground by her feet while another jabs to sharply into her palm at the contact. She feels the cut immediately and instinctively raises it to her mouth and sucks._

 _Her attention remains fixed on the point at hand. Marmaduke out with a woman. Socialising with a woman—it was clearly no bank meeting. A woman that was definitely not Rosamund, that was if the blonde hair Cora could spy around the edge of the tree was anything to go by._

 _Was this the woman who had caused Roz to arrive drenched to the core on their front door? Had Roz seen Marmaduke with her that night? Who was she? But most significantly Cora was wondering what on earth she should do, was now the moment to reveal her position and question him?_

 _She resolves to turn away. To forget she even heard anything. She couldn't be totally sure it was Marmaduke without seeing his face anyway. But then, just like that, returning her gaze to her young family and her hands to the belly that was ready to swell once more with child her resolve wavers. All of that had been taken from Roz was it right that she also lost her husband?_

 _Was it right of Cora to let the issue of Marmaduke's dalliance pass her by as if it it didn't matter. Would she want Rosamund to cover up such a thing, to not confront Robert if he carried on in such a manner. The answer was simple. She would want Roz to stick by her so she will stick by Rosamund._

 _"Marmaduke! What a nice surprise. It seems an age since we've seen each other." He is clearly startled by her appearance and hurriedly stands to offer his hand._

 _"Cora." It was all too formal and yet despite that he is completely relaxed. Cora saw no signs that he felt he had been caught doing something he shouldn't. Even the lady sat beside him seemed unfazed by her presence. "I've been meaning to send my congratulations on the news about the baby."_

 _Cora finds that if she could (without giving her thoughts away) reach up to scratch her head in confusion she would, and yet surely the piercing brown eyes from the blonde as she gazed up at her were not friendly by calculating. Shouldn't she be scooping up her things and running away? She wasn't. She was more calm than Cora; legs stretched out in front of her and head tipped back to catch the breeze._

 _"It was rather a shock. Much like seeing you here without Rosamund." She emphasises the 'without' hoping for some type of response but none comes._

 _"I'm seeing her tonight to discuss our planned trip to America." So, despite his fidelity issues he was still leading Rosamund on, trying to coax her back to him. Cora frowns, turning her attention back to his companion to see if that would make him at the very least introduce them. "All three of us are going to this dinner actually. Robert recommended that Italian in Piccadilly." So Marmaduke and Robert had been talking, she hadn't been told that._

 _"And Rosamund knows you're inviting another friend. A close, female, friend." Marmaduke finally narrows his gaze and a wave of realisation seems to hit him._

 _"Roz hasn't told you about Jen?" Cora takes a second to process the sentence. Rosamund knew about the blonde bombshell; knew her well enough that they were all going to dinner._

 _"No. Nice to meet you Jen." The blonde nods her head and takes Cora's outstretched hand._

 _"Jen is my cousin. But we grew up more like siblings." Cora frowns, trying to picture this 'Jen' at Roz's wedding. "She works on the cruise ships in entertainment." It all comes back to Cora then. How upset Marmaduke had been that Jen wouldn't be able to fly home for the wedding—he had wanted her to sing at the event._

 _"I'm on a break between contracts at the moment so I've paid Duke a surprise visit. But, I think you'll agree Cora that this business with Rosamund is all ridiculous." Cora laughs softly but it's more a nervous laugh. Thank goodness she had been wrong about Jen but what did that mean about that night Roz had arrived. What had triggered her to look so unhappy?_

 _"Nobody seems to believe me when I say that Rosamund has every right in the world to never want to see me again." He slouches back onto the grass, his shoes kicking at the earth in annoyance. He reminded her of Robert in a temper, always so quick to lose all sense of what was going on. Jen shakes her head at Cora._

 _"He won't tell me why." Cora almost laughs but holds it in, not telling was certainly a Painswick trait._

 _"Duke you're as bad as Roz. How is anyone supposed to help if neither of you tell us what happened?" Cora kicks gently at his foot to gain his attention._

 _"What has she told you Cora?" She lets herself sit on the grass, this could take some time._

 _"About the baby. She said you hardly talked after and that you went out every night and came back late. She thought you weren't hurting very much because you never cried."_

 _"Never, never...cried. What? Where did she think I went for gods sake to a club and drank and...wait..." He jumps to his feet in a flourish. "The night she ended up at your house she had followed me. I'd gone to meet Jen's friend and take her to her hotel. I kissed her cheek in greeting because the cafe by the airport was really loud and I needed to speak in her ear so she could hear. Errrrrr. When I turned I saw Roz but she just ran off. I didn't think, I didn't, I thought she knew...I thought."_

 _"Has she not told you that was the issue in all these chats you've been having?" Cora was completely bemused, why on earth was Duke so shocked that his kissing another woman had been the problem rather than the baby business._

 _"No. No we just talked about the holiday. When she'd got angry with me she never mentioned that night. She talked about my cold feelings and-" He kicks at the bottom of the tree and Cora is more than pleased that Jen seems to be able to pacify him before he hurts himself. She tells him she'll stay at home for the dinner tonight so that he can sort everything with Rosamund and just like that Marmaduke seems to calm down before pacing about mumbling about what he is going to say._

 _"She wanted me to figure this out. Oh Marmaduke how could you be so stupid." Talking in third person was definitely proof that the message had got through to him and that he would hopefully sort the issue._

 _Cora leaves them be, and heads back around to Robert which what she knows to be a truly wide smile._

 _"I have good and bad news for you darling." She takes a sleeping Edith from his arms._

 _"It was Marmaduke then?"_

 _"Yes. And I think he and Roz are very close to sorting out the problem. There has been some miscommunication but them sorting themselves out will unfortunately leave us without an easy babysitter." The laugh together, Edith cradled between them and Mary clinging to their legs._

 _The fifth silent heart within Cora's stomach growing steadily, demanding protection and taking its time. Living on the love of the family of four. But was it a heart destined to join them, make them five; or is four to become two as a family is ripped in half?_

* * *

Today was much like that day. Well, maybe not very similar but similar enough in a strange way.

Certainly the tea rooms were as peaceful as that day at the park. The striped table cloths and the China mugs. The gentle 'clink' of the tea cups as they were lowered back to the saucer. The patterns that adorned the designs; floral swirls and leaves of all shades of green. There was the hum of the counter section that was keeping the cakes and scones cool. Cora could even make out an argument in the corner of the cafe where a young couple seemed to be squabbling over the highly disputed topic of which way to spread a scone. Jam or cream first? The red curtains at the windows were a perfect fit around the chalk white frames leaving the dark, wet, London day hidden between frills and lace.

Being sat in a tea rooms was innocent enough, and not the same as that day in Hyde Park. But being so completely distracted from what she was meant to be doing—watching out for Ethel who was coming to discuss how things were progressing after their last meeting about her boyfriend—was just the same.

He mind had been distracted anyway. She and Robert were going to see Clarkson in the morning and she was sure that it was all going to go horribly wrong. He seemed so confident that he would escape going to the hospital and yet Cora could feel in her gut that he wouldn't.

Not that it was any of that which was distracting her now though. No, it was something completely different that had reminded her of how she had stumbled across Marmaduke that day.

Matthew stood outside in the pouring rain with none other than Miss Lavinia Swire nestled (and that really was the only word for it) under his arm. As Cora watched she kept looking up at him as if it was from his head that the centre of the world began. Her ginger hair shines even in the bleak light and she reminded Cora of one of those annoying girls at school who always seemed to have everything: the latest shoes and hairstyles before they even became popular. In reality Cora found her heart and mind churning in circles as she watched them. She has thought that Lavinia was sweet and a good nurse when she had helped so diligently with Edward's birth. Now though, watching her gaze at Matthew as though he was a single bachelor in need of a girlfriend (or something far more base) she wanted to be sick.

Weirdly enough though it wasn't Lavinia that she wanted to strangle. No, it was Matthew. What on earth did he think he was doing? Mary was at home nursing his baby and he was wandering around the city with his arm around another woman.

She lifts herself from the table. Her tea cup missing the saucer as she roughly places it back down. Matthew had another thing coming if he thought he was going to get away with this.

She struggles against the door to the shop. The wind outside trying desperately to slam it shut in her face. Determination grips her though and she slips through the smallest of gaps only to hear the door whack back into place, the latch clicking.

She pulls the collar up on her coat, hugging her chin against the waterproof edging. She shoves her hands into the deep pockets and she imagined from a distance she might be mistaken for Sherlock Holmes. Not that much detective work was necessary, the evidence before her was as plain as her nose. She rounds the corner from the cafe entrance to the side that she had been looking out onto only to find the pavement deserted.

She spins on the spot, propelling rain from her soaked coat like a dog shaking his fur. Water splatters onto her shoes and up the back of her leg as men rush around her. None of them are Matthew though. Each uses her as a roundabout without seeing her.

Used. Not seen.

Yes, they seemed like the appropriate words for Mary at this current moment. Having his children, running his home but not being seen. No, indeed, it seemed that Lavinia was the one being seen too.

Wandering back to the cafe to await Ethel she can't help feeling that the behaviour really wasn't at all like she thought Matthew was. He'd never come across as a liar or someone who was likely to play Mary. He was no Simon Bricker. In fact, since the cancer scenario and George's birth Cora has thought he'd been throwing himself more wholeheartedly into life than ever before.

' _Or maybe he has more people to throw his life at now'_ her mind suggests in an attempt to cloud her judgement yet again.

She twirls her phone between her fingers back at the table. Should she tell Robert? Mary maybe? If she was honest it all seemed rather silly, she hadn't seen anything so bad. For all she knew they might have run into each other by accident and embraced when they realised they knew each other.

' _But Matthew was clinging to her and her look suggested something more._ ' Cora pushes the China away with a force and her phone clatters from her hand into the table. The image was going to stick with her, that much was certain, until she knew exactly what it was that she had seen and the meaning behind it.

"You look upset Cora." She makes a shaky, half laugh as Ethel arrives at the table. Not that it is Ethel that speaks it's Sophie (with her bodyguard two steps behind). Cora had almost forgotten that she was attending today's meeting. Ethel had agreed that for Sophie to attend would be alright. As patron Sophie had to keep a check on the work of the charity—she had attended a talk with Phyllis that morning and now it was time to see a one-to-one session in practice. Normally these 'check ups' would be done more publicly with people from the charity forming an assembly line and people helped by the charity forming another and Sophie attending to talk to as many people as possible with hundreds of photographs to be had for the press. But Sophie had said she didn't want that for this. This wasn't a charity that wanted press intrusion, that would disrespect the anonymity of the likes of Ethel. It had been agreed that Sophie's word that she was happy with progress was enough for the minute.

"It's nothing."

"You're not going to fool me Cora. Goodness you've supported me through years of trouble and Royal messes. Tell me." Ethel excuses herself to the toilet and Cora finds herself, without hesitating telling Sophie all of it. What she'd just seen with Lavinia and Matthew; how isolated she felt from George (Mary never wanted her help with her newborn). Robert's ulcer. Sybil's far too serious relationship with marriage seemingly beckoning. It all races from her lips like waves might race through a dam once it's released.

Sophie seemed to have an inbreed, or maybe it was practice from all the Royal engagements she carried out, ability at soothing and exclaiming in all the right places.

It makes Cora feel, with a jolt the absence of her in her life in recent years. Sophie and Edward had visited frequently not so long ago. Cora and Robert had even babysat their children yet Cora could hardly remember the last time she had seen James or Louise. She could easily remember cradling a month old James and even, rather more sadly being woken by a terrified Edward who was halfway across the world when Sophie had suffered an ectopic pregnancy. Two years after that she'd stood by the bedside of a Sophie she didn't recognise. She'd lost so much blood giving birth to Louise they didn't think she would make it. Cora had stood by Sophie no matter what and it hurt to realise they had lost that somewhere. To think that they had only really come back together over the charity.

"It seems like quite a drama. I can't comment on you feeling unwanted by Mary. As for Matthew and the girl I would question him. Don't worry Robert and certainly don't tell Mary until you are sure. And Robert's ulcers, well, forgive me for being rude Cora but I do feel that's where your current paranoia stems from. You're worrying out of your mind for him when my sitting here should tell you that hospitals and treatment these days is very good. You need a distraction." Cora finds herself smiling suddenly. The word distraction and her earlier thoughts fitting together easily.

"Is Edward in town?"

"You know he hates me going off on my own! Of course he's here."

"And Louise and James?"

"Yes. Edward had some day trip planned."

"Excellent. Come for dinner tonight. All of you. I hadn't seen Louise or James in ages." Sophie easily agrees and Cora does find that the oversensitive part of her brain seems to calm in response. So much so when Ethel, having loitered looking at the wall art on the other side of the cafe sits herself opposite Cora she is ready to give all the advice she can.

Ethel had been a strange case Cora thought. She was more crass and spiky than her other 'patients.' The woman she projected herself as—unfazed and happy with anything—was not who she was. She was deeply sensitive beneath it all. The flaming hair that was always piled on her head in a messy bun that seemed more stylish than any on the glossy pages was not in fact a reflection of her burning and bright personality but actually proved her weakness. It was a genetic weakness just as she really only wanted what every other girl wanted however much she pretended to be more feisty. A nice, kind, protective boyfriend to settle down with after her studies. She did not want a regularly drunk and abusive one.

"You'll be pleased to know that I've ended it with Charlie. But..." She glances around and Cora can tell instantly she is upset and confused about something. "He keeps following me about. Waiting, I can feel it, to ambush me." And just like that she breaks down into angry sobs.

"Oh Ethel. What makes you think he's trying to ambush you?"

"He almost did last night. He grabbed me and pushed me to the ground. Thankfully I was saved by two passes by who fought him off me and walked me home. But, I think, I think he's going to try and-" Her hands shake like nothing Cora has ever seen as she raises them to her wet eyes.

Cora didn't need the last word. Neither did Sophie. The latter inhales sharply and turns to talk to Barrow, one of her bodyguards. Cora falls back in her chair. A whole host of late night walks with Simon springing to mind.

Cora is so lost in her sad memories she almost misses Sophie leaning over and clasping Ethel's wrist.

"He won't manage it Ethel. I promise that. Nobody likes to get the wrong side of Barrow. He's going to stay with you for a week or so. He'll keep an eye and when the moment is right will tell Charlie to keep his distance."

"But-"

"He won't have any option but to agree. Her majesty's orders and all that." Cora finally sees the streak of a smile cross Ethel's face and they finish up discussing her degree. She sees herself out, Barrow at her heels, leaving Sophie sat silently at the table across from Cora.

"You didn't have to do that with Barrow. Ethel has been learning self defence in a class we recommend to-"

"She's pregnant Cora. She might not know what to do about it. And she might not have told you. But she's pregnant."

"What? How? Why did you not get her to speak about it?"

"I thought it was rather premature when she'd only just done the pregnancy test in the cafe toilet. It would have terrified her which is not a good game to play." Cora knows she is staring wide eyed, her reflection in the mirror above Sophie's head made it very plain. "I saw it in her bag that was resting by her feet. She kept glancing down at it too. That's the real reason she's in such a state. I'm sure she'll tell you when she next calls."

"Next calls Sophie. She might do something silly when she's that distraught-"

"Hence Barrow Cora! Do keep up. He's going to subtly persuade her to call if he wants the promotion I've just promised him." Cora rolls her eyes. Yes, this was the Sophie she had known. Crafty but with a heart exactly in the right spot.

* * *

His first conscious thought was of the pain throbbing somewhere beneath his left hand. A long way beneath if his sense of position was correct. Yes, that must be so if his left hand was resting on some old scratchy fabric and the pain he felt was lower, inside him, at the base of his throat. The very base. His stomach.

A rush of air sails between his teeth as his mouth opens wide. He consciously thinks about lifting his hand to cover the gasp it emits but the thought of moving it seemed stalled and unwanted. As though it was quite simply pinned to his side.

As his mouth takes in air in exchange for that just lost his ears seem to practically open wide and absorb the thousands of sounds that were present all around him. There was a gentle hush of noise some distance away that was a mixture of squeaks and chatter along with the occasionally sound of rushing wheels on a slippery floor or yells for attention. A little nearer he can hear a louder bleep, a 'bleep' that seemed to co-inside with a rhythm he could feel beneath the skin of his thumb. Still nearer than that, though a lot quieter, was someone else's breathing. Each is long and deep and Robert knew instinctively that the person was sleeping.

He holds still, not wanting to wake the sleeping person however close they may or may not be sat to him. Holding still at first seems an easy thing to do, his limbs felt heavy and full of thick treacle, quite unable to move. At least that had been so when his thoughts had first become known to him again, now they seemed to itch for the movement. As if nothing would be better than being able to reach out and see how far the stiff covering stretched and to find the man or woman who was breathing so prettily to his right.

Just as he's about to flex his right hand (the left was definitely fixed to the centre of this heaviness he felt) a harsher sense makes itself known to him. A gentle gulp makes him swallow the saliva that had been sticking to the top of his mouth and his teeth. Instead of the usual tasteless liquid he swallows what could only be a chemical mixture from a school science lab. It was so metallic. It tasted exactly like one would imagine the smell left behind on fingers after excessively handling coins would taste like.

He hears a fierce blurting of the machine. The horrendous way it quickens as if it can not keep up with the rhythm beneath his wrist. He hears it all ad doesn't do anything to stop it. He doesn't flinch at the stopping of those deep breaths and two hands adding pressure to his right arm, the digits of the person's fingers digging into his skin. He barely hears her (yes, it sounded like a woman) calling for help. He barely registers the frantic rush of two or three pairs of feet through the doors at the far side of the room. He processes none of it. Cares for none of it. Why? Because he knows what the metallic taste in his mouth is.

Blood.

A word that quite literally causes a fountain of memories from the night before to erupt into focus.

Each was tinged with a faint red glow. Although maybe tinge was not the right word. They were 'speckled' with a blood red pattern. A randomised splattering of red as it might look if it had been cascaded across a pristine white table cloth.

The first snippet of memory was easy. Cora walking through the front door, her keys bouncing on the floor as her heels were flicked from her feet to join the pile. The only thing that has alerted him to a change to their usual Sunday night plan was her face. Her cheeks and eyes were red and worried. She'd been crying. Yet, her pretty smile and the way she'd kissed his cheek in greeting and immediately launched into the news that Sophie and Edward were coming for dinner had disregarded his worries and she had brushed them off. Those thoughts were fuzzy, a sentence here and a nod there but he thought they just about made sense.

The second image he sees is sharper than the last. The redness is brighter as well and the pattern more distinct. As though his memories were getting closer to the moment in question when the pattern would make itself known.

This one was more exceptional in many ways. It was his little darling Edward being held by the elbow, on either side, by the two children of Prince Edward and Sophie—Louise and James. He only manages a couple of toddling steps before toppling forward. He's caught without much difficulty but immediately after the image fades in Robert's mind.

He hears the noises again. More this time. The voice that was closest, loudest was...was that an American accent? Yes. Yes.

He turns his head towards it. The soft feminine voice that was so alluring. She says something more lengthy than the previous simple syllables of his name and whether he can hear her. He doesn't catch this longer sentence though as her voice seems to disappear slightly. Crack with what he thinks are likely to be tears.

His chest seems to halt in it usual breathing pattern as his mouth tries to form the word he is thinking of. The word that would describe how lovely the voice was. How pretty and soothing. He wanted to be a comfort to her, she was clearly upset, when she was being such a pleasant sensation to him. If only the weight would be lifted from him, to make him feel less sluggish. Less like those memories tinged with blood were about to pull him back under.

As if just thinking about them was a trigger for the next the magical voice disappears, gets locked in a drawer in the back of his mind before he can conjure up what word it is that he is looking for. Instead a third video flashes before his eyes.

He's sat beside Edward but what he sees, what this Robert of some hours before had been looking at was not the man who was talking to him about how they should call Edward 'Teddy' so that every time Sophie talks to the youngest Crawley Edward himself doesn't keep looking up to his wife. No, this Robert was staring instead at the two women on the settee opposite. His son cradled in the lap of Sophie, who was tickling him while Cora looked on and laughed with their son. This Robert was watching the tilt of her head as she talked and the twirls of hair that had fallen out of place. The blush she made when she looks up to find him watching. Distantly he hears some background chatter, teasing in fact, as Sophie coos at Edward and her husband mimics her voice in reply, asking what she would like him for. Sophie rolls her eyes in exaggeration, but all he really sees is Cora. Her laugh as Sophie mumbles something funny behind her hand. When she turns her gaze on him she says his name, her rich American accent rolling over the 'R'.

Yes. Yes. He feels the heaviness lift as he finds that word he wanted.

Cora.

Cora. That was the word. That was what he needed to say to the voice above him that wasn't just a voice. It was his wife. His dearest Cora. She was crying and he needed to tell her that he could hear her. That he was alright. He would just like her to lift this weight from somewhere beneath his left arm. A sluggish heaviness that seemed to be clinging to his head as well, and pulling him under. It also burned in his throat. It was at its worst in his stomach.

He feels his lips form over the 'C'. His tongue lifting to the roof of his mouth and then falling quickly. Too quickly.

The vacuum of his thoughts beckons and he loses his coherent knowledge of what he thinks is the present, slipping back into the considerably redder past.

It was dinner time and the Robert in his memories seemed to be completely disorientated. His eyes flitting from one member of the group to the next. He admired how grown up Louise had become and despite her unfortunate condition concerning her vision seemed very confident in her own skin.* James had equally matured into a sparky young lad. He talked excitedly about starting at secondary school, although it was a year away and joked and teased his sister. Sophie and Edward were not much changed from the couple he had known since 1996. It was true they'd been a couple before then but for Robert that had been the first time he had met Sophie. If anything Robert thought them altogether more relaxed now. Both content, maybe going through all they had; Sophie almost dying after giving birth to Louise had solidified a strong relationship to something that neither of them ever took for granted now. The memory doesn't stand still though, all of a sudden the focus shifts to Cora and then back to the burning pain in his stomach. His knife and fork clatter to the table, the simple roast altogether unappetising. In fact if he wasn't mistaken he felt completely sick. His stomach was trying to lurch it all back into his throat. He staggers to a stand. His stomach seems to fail at that moment and the next thing he sees is the random pattern that had clouded all the other memories but it's bright this time. It is the image. He sees it for what it is now.

Blood.

On the ivory tablecloth. Red on white.

The sour sensation in his mouth from the memory startles him back to the present. That was the sensation he could feel now. The metallic sourness.

His eyes fly open with realisation, the weight on his head lifting (although it stays in his abdomen). The sounds from before intensify just by being able to see them. The machine beside him, the swinging of the doors in the far corner of the room as doctors and nurses scuttle about.

It's Cora he really sees though, leaning over him a wide smile on her lips with damp tears glittering on her lashes.

"Oh my darling." Her fingers curl over his right hand and he tries to pull his mouth into a smile but the truth was his whole jaw seemed to ache. "I didn't have a chance to say last night but I love you very, very much too." He knows his eyebrows furrow with confusion. She seemed to be referencing something that he had said last night he supposed. He nods softly.

"They burst?" His voice was shaky and painful but he could feel that trying his voice was going to help.

"Yes. At dinner. Speaking of which Sophie and Edward are in the waiting room. They refused to leave until they knew you were alright." He nods gently. "The girls both came but have since gone home. When the doctor said the operation had been successful they went back." Robert isn't surprised, they both had young children to be looking after and no doubt they had been left with their brother too.

"Sorry I ruined the dinner."

"You didn't ruin anything Robert. You being here, alive, is what is important."

"What did you mean by saying you loved me a minute ago. I know that Cora without you having to tell me."

"It is what you said last night. We were waiting for the ambulance and you were laid on the floor, blood everywhere. And you said 'I have loved you very, very much.'" He tries to tighten his grip on her hand, to silently tell her how much he appreciated her being here. She seems to understand and squeezes his hand in response.

"Louise and James, have they waited too?"

"No. They wanted to. I've never seen either of them so adamant but Sophie persuaded them to go to their grandmother for the night and they would return some time today once you'd woken." Robert tries to smile but the weariness returns and all he seems to be able to think about is that their grandmother is the Queen and how that must be for them. "They will come later with the girls and Edward. Only once this afternoon comes though. The doctor said you're likely to drift in and out of sleep for a while."

He knows Cora keeps talking to him but he can feel the consciousness slipping which made her hand the far more comforting factor. He could lie like this forever, with her hand to guide him.

* * *

*Lady Louise does have a problem with her sight and she's had a lot of operations. I haven't gone into detail here but you can obviously look it all up. Sophie did also suffer both an ectopic pregnancy (before she had either of her children) and did almost die giving birth to Louise—again it can all be looked up online if you're interested.

AN: On another note, thanks for all the reviews. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and leaving a review would be greatly appreciated. I hope the summer is going well for everyone. Lastly, you will have an early update next week, on Thursday afternoon British time.


	31. Chapter 31

AN: A great thanks to you all. I think I've messaged you all. However, there is one person in particular who I never have thanked directly for his/her reviews. There is a guest who always leaves me very long reviews, separating them out by people/each of the three sections depending on what suits. To her/him I've been meaning to add a very big thank you here for a while. My thanks also go out to the other guests who I don't manage to thank personally who leave reviews but this one (whoever you are) has been especially attentive and has given me ideas along the way.

I am going to add a **trigger warning** here, for miscarriage. I am sorry!

I hope you enjoy regardless.

* * *

He'd come through it. That was all she could really think about even this many weeks on. He might still be confined to bed rest, with regular visits from the doctor but he was alive which was three hundred times more than she had been expecting when he'd fallen to the floor in their dining room, blood pouring from his mouth.

His face is smooth with sleep as she enters the room, Edward clasped to her hip. She mumbles to Edward to be quiet, putting her finger to her lip. He copies her, one podgy index finger resting on his small mouth, a little smile on his face.

"Nap."

"Yes that is right Edward, Dada is having a nap." The twitch of Robert's lips even at their whispers tells her that he is still playing along with her plan so she walks Edward to the window and they sit in the window seat. It was a game she and Edward had started playing since they had spent so much time in her and Robert's bedroom during the day, the idea was they tried to guess the colour of the next car that came around the corner. It was good practice for Edward who was getting rather good at some of his colours along with the numbers one and two.

"Wed!"

"Yes Edward well done. It's red." Cora stands him on her lap, supporting his hips as he bounces up and down. It was his favourite thing to do now that he was getting stronger on his legs. A shuffling from behind makes it clear that Robert is waking up or at least following through with their surprise for Edward.

"Dada. Dada." He jumps on her knees at each of his exclamations and Cora is forced to lower him to the ground. He wobbles towards the bed and with some assistance on Cora's part he makes it without knocking himself. She lifts him onto the sheets where he immediately crawls to Robert's side. "Dada. Dada."

"Yes that's right my darling boy. Your daddy is awake." Cora is happy with Robert's clear show of excitement and willingness to go as far as putting on a kiddy voice.

Cora keeps a firm hold of the base of Edward's top not wanting him to try and launch himself at his father. Robert was on strict guidelines after his operation and lifting his son about was not allowed.

"Pway?"

"No Edward I can't play on the floor. My tummy will hurt." Edward crosses his arms and sticks his lower lip out in a position Sybil had showed him how to do, he had taken to using it when he was upset. She had explained it was better than crying not that her brother had fully understood that explanation, but he did use the face rather than screaming which was good for Robert's bed rest. It wasn't difficult for her to show him, he'd always liked copying stances and faces from both his father and youngest sister. "I have got something for you though Edward."

He pulls back the embroidered covers on the bed and pushes their customary velvet cream blanket to one side to reveal the wooden red train. The wheels and roof are black but the boiler was bright red with stripes of yellow to indicate the brass work. It had a long piece of string tied to the front that meant Edward could pull it along if he liked. There was a strong memory linked to the train and she and Robert had been hoping Edward would remember.

Just a week before Robert's fatal ulcer incident they had taken Edward into the city. This wasn't a common occurrence as they liked to take the tube into the centre (parking was hopeless) but manoeuvring the pushchair on and off the trains was so tricky. They'd taken the bait anyway and struggled on and off—it was a lot easier with two.

Their first stop had been Hamley's, they wanted to choose a birthday present for Marigold. The second they had got through the door Edward had stretched his arms wide of the pram and was dramatically trying to reach the toy train. It was a replica of the one Prince George had recently been pictured with and thus was occupying the shops doorway stand.

They'd had to spent fifteen minutes coaxing the train off of him to make it to the section they wanted for Marigold and he'd burst into floods of tears; screaming and shouting all through the shop when they returned it to the shelf rather than to his hands. Cora had taken to carrying him on her hip just to calm him down. Usually they would have purchased the toy there and then but they didn't like to give in when he cried and performed. It was a rule they'd had with the girls. Edward was still only tiny but if he realised now he wouldn't get if he was naughty he wouldn't try it later on. She and Robert had been forced to remember the train though as Edward had been enjoying the Thomas the Tank stories being read to him at night and he'd been especially attentive of James (the red train), always pointing at the page and making train sounds. At the end of it all they had decided if he progressed with his talking and was well behaved and quiet when Robert was convalescing they would treat him to it.

As it was he had been a complete angel for the last month and was gurgling more words and walking more steps when he tried.

"Wed choo choo."

"Yes Edward. A red train." He jumps on the bed, landing flat on his bottom on the last excited pounce. He pulls at the string of the train but Robert catches his hand.

"This is because you've been a good boy Edward with your walking and your numbers." He smiles but Cora doesn't think he takes it in. His eyes are fixed only on the train, his hand stroking the black chimney. "Now, mummy will put it on the floor for you."

Cora slips off the bed with the train before helping Edward down. He immediately starts crawling along the carpet clutching the string and calling out 'choo choo.' She watches him for a minute or so, tickling his toes every time he scoots back passed her. The bleach blonde curls he's had at birth had darkened and were now a hazelnut colour with streaks of a darker coffee shade. Robert had been pestering her to cut them but she couldn't—they curled about in such unique yet neat ways, each seemingly spooned to the one next to it.

"Cora come and lie with me. Edward is happy playing. We could play another game of cards." She knows he is teasing. Goodness they had played cards alongside writing emails and letters for his work (Phyllis was dropping in three times a day with a pile of assignments), all day long in every spare minute alongside making sure Robert still got ample rest.

"Or," she climbs onto the bed, resting her head beside his on the headboard, "you could tell me when and where you have booked this holiday for us. You keep getting letters from the travel agents. I've seen them so-"

"No Cora I'm determined that it shall be a surprise." She traces her finger over his wrist and up his arm trying to think of a way to get him to spill the beans.

"Please?" She turns her face to his and flutters her eyelashes which only makes him laugh, that had never worked with him. She leans her head against his shoulder, careful not to jostle him. How on earth was she going to convince him it was right to tell her?

"No Cora. But you will like it, I promise."

"Can you at least tell me for how long we are going?" She traces her finger higher on his arm, to the crease of his elbow where he had a small scar from a previous bad experience with a blood donation.

"That's about the only part that isn't finalised." She furrows her brow and looks up from watching her nail trace the raised crease on his arm. He is grinning. It is a soft grin, one that he is attempting to hide behind a dropped gaze and a bent neck but Cora sees it.

"I don't understand Robert. How can you have booked a holiday without having finalised how long we are going for? Surely you therefore haven't booked!"

"I have definitely booked. Or otherwise the travel agents have stolen my bank details, money keeps disappearing!" He laughs by her cheek and temple but Cora doesn't laugh with him, she was finding it all infuriating. Was it a beach holiday? Sightseeing? Were they cruising or staying in a hotel?

"Have you booked for this year?" He kisses the side of her head a smile playing against her cheek. She knew what he was doing, trying to force her to think and talk of something else.

"We can go whenever we like."

"Robert, that makes no sense. You can't book a holiday and then turn up any time. Your booking has to be a certain date."

"Not with this. We have complete choice."

"Now I think you must tell me seeing as these hints are making me both confused and excited. Besides I'm going to have to pack for both of us and I don't want to pack swimwear if you've rented some igloo in the Arctic." He laughs really loudly at that and the sound still made Cora feel so happy. So relieved that he was alive and able to laugh with her still.

"Oh I don't know. They do say you are better being naked if you want to stay warm and I can't say I disagree with the prospect of lying with you in a bikini, even in the Arctic."

"And here I was thinking the operation had made you feel your age. It seems not." Edward chooses that moment to try and pull himself to his feet using the rocking chair in the corner of the room. On grasp of the arm of the chair and he falls straight to the floor, the frame rocking forward. He reaches up again, unperturbed, which is when Cora shoots herself across the room—the rocking chair careering for her little boy's head as he keeps pulling to try and lift himself to his feet. "Hey, hey Edward. Don't do that. You'll hurt yourself." She scoops him up from the ground and steadies the chair before returning him to his train and showing him how it might chuff more loudly up over the bumps in the rug. Edward immediately seems taken with his new found adventure and starts crawling about again. "Now, this holiday Robert. I want details."

"Well we aren't going to the Arctic. So no naked cuddling for me but swimwear will be needed in the suitcases."

"Oh, I don't know about the naked cuddling. You might be able to persuade me." She shuffles back onto the bed, readjusting the blankets Robert had wrapped all around him. "There are going to be beaches then, if we need swim stuff?"

"Yes. A beach almost every day I hope." He's smiling widely as they sit looking at each other. Cora could feel that she was getting somewhere here. Would he tell her all of it though?

"'Almost every day,' that sounds as though you can't be sure that there will be. So...does that mean we are cruising?"

"Not exactly." His smirk is growing wider with each of her attempts to make him crack. She pretends to give up and settles against his side with a huff.

"You are incorrigible you know." She feels him trying to reach his arm around her back, his fingers slowly trace down the back of her upper arm and then to her hip as he tries to nudge her closer.

"We are going on the sea. But not cruising exactly. We are yachting."

"One with sails or one of those really fancy big yachts?" Cora can feel her mind doing leaps, desperately thinking over all those times she had exclaimed over how much she would like to sail on one of those fancy yachts with a small sun deck at the top.

"I'm afraid it is not really big but it is a yacht like you like. No sails. But it is large enough to have a small jacuzzi and space for sun loungers on the top deck and a fairly large bedroom downstairs."

"So we are going to be on it alone? It's not like a small cruise yacht?"

"No. We are going to be on it alone forever more. It's why I said we can go for however long or short we like because I have brought the yacht." She shifts away from him and turning abruptly wraps her arms around his chest. Perhaps two quickly as the strain of his voice saying her name reminds her that he isn't fully recovered yet. She releases her hold slightly but she knows she is still looking at him open mouthed.

"You brought a yacht?" He raises his eyebrows once very quickly before nodding slowly and taking her hand.

"Yes. For us to enjoy." She leans over and kisses his forehead.

"But how are we going to get about? You can't drive a yacht."

"No. I can't but it's easy enough to hire a man."

"Have you seen the yacht?"

"No but I know and trust the man who has on this matter. He knows his yachts and recommended it to me."

"Who?"

"Your brother." Cora is surprised, Harold and Robert had never been overly fond of each other but she could see why he had trusted Harold's judgement. He knew more than a thing or two about how to sail the sea in style.

"So you told him about this holiday of ours before you told me?" She tries to sound annoyed but it doesn't work, and she is leaning into his side again before she finishes the sentence. "Where is the yacht?"

"In Greece, Piraeus actually. I was thinking of flying to Athens and then we can sail to as many of the Greek islands as you like."

"Oh Robert I...oh I don't know what to say." She snuggles against his side. Kissing his neck.

"I know what you need to say. I'm wonderful." She rolls her eyes but stays curled next to him. Edward starts tugging at the side of the bed as he tries to hoist himself up so Cora leans over to help him. He seems sleepy, rubbing his eyes all the time and Cora tucks him between the two of them where he falls asleep not ten minutes later.

She and Robert continue to whisper about this and that. Islands they want to definitely visit on this first trip when he has recovered and Cora finds herself more excited about this holiday than any she has had in years. Her honeymoon had been the last time when she had been ecstatic at the thought of two whole weeks alone with Robert after far too many months of wedding plans and her dear Mama complaining. Maybe it having all her girls grown up and young Edward seemingly racing through the months of his first two years. Or maybe it was just the stress since their last holiday (Simon, Edward, Matthew, Sybil, Robert's ulcer) that was making her so desperately crave this plan.

"I'm excited Robert."

"Me too Cora. Me too." They both chuckle softly when they each reach to ruffle Edward's curls at the same moment.

* * *

It was a relief go be back at work. Sure, he'd been carrying out the work from the comfort of his bed at home and that had been pleasant for a time. But after a while it had just been a reminder that he was recovering from an operation and quite frankly the scenery had got rather dull. He was a man who liked to be at the centre of his work, he was the boss. And the centre was in the office—not his bedroom.

Walking into his office he had a new found respect for it. The simple walls free of all the drawers and dressing tables in his bedroom. There was only one item pressed against one of the three painted walls (the other was glass) and that was his filing cabinet. The centre of the room was taken up with the soft furnishing and a coffee table that had become all the rage in offices now. It seemed interviews no longer took place across a desk but over a coffee table, the same went for meetings. Anyhow, the grey and blue settees were a sight for sore eyes. A brighter sight for his sore eyes was his desk though, all cleaned and tidied by Phyllis to the extent that he could see the beech wood beneath. His office lamp stood waiting in the corner of the desk and Robert can't resist giving it a tap with his hand.

What makes him smile most broadly though is the mug of tea throwing billows of steam into the air in sweeping spirals with just the right amount of milk added and in his favourite mug. It sits right in the middle of his desk and a note beside it reads 'welcome back.' Robert chuckles.

"Thanks for the tea Phyllis."

"That's alright. You've got a load of those ghastly emails you hate to sort this morning and I thought you might need it." Just the word 'email' made him frown, what was wrong with a decent letter? It didn't help that when he'd taken over the job it had been his secretary who had raced to keep up with the ever changing technological world as she printed and scanned, photocopied and typed. He signed and composed letters and talked on the phone, held meetings. But technology; no. Yet now he was forced to immerse himself in that world just as much as Phyllis. Apart from important letters the days of composing a letter and Phyllis typing it up were passed. Everything had to be emailed.

He spends a long hour slogging his way through over a hundred emails. It had just been the weekend for goodness sake, why were there so many? Did these people ever take a day off?

Glancing at the clock he realises it's heading for eleven o'clock and that he has a meeting with Matthew to go over the new details regarding the pension scheme the government were bringing in. Matthew, being enrolled to deal with the law and money matters regarding the employees, had this problem to sort but Robert needed to catch up on how it was all going.

"I'm going downstairs to Matthew, Phyllis. I'll be back in a bit." She nods, reaching over to check his planner and remind him that he's got a telephone meeting booked at twelve thirty.

"Oh-" he turns just as he enters the hallway, hearing the scrape of Phyllis' chair alongside her call- "and make sure you knock before you enter Mr Crawley's office."

Robert doesn't have a chance to reply before the phone in Phyllis' office rings and she dives to get it. Knock?

What was Matthew doing in his office that he couldn't see? Phyllis knew about it, so how many other people in the office knew about it? And clearly it was a new thing, no such things had been happening before his operation.

Arriving downstairs he heads straight for the door, ready to knock. After all, if something was going on Matthew would tell him to wait and then Robert would se whoever it was leaving and could assess what was happening from the waiting room. That would be a big clue as to what type of business it is.

He gets brought up short though, with his hand an inch from the wood when he hears a raised, female, voice from within.

"You have to tell her Matthew. She is your wife and she has a right to know what has happened!"

"Nothing has happened. Nothing that wasn't going to happen anyway."

"Matthew, she is at home with your son. She wants another of your children before you pass on. It is only fair that you tell her the facts of the situation."

"Facts! What do they matter? She's better with her innocence. I'm going to die anyway what difference does it make?"

"It makes a difference to me! To my place in your life during what is left of it and when you are gone. You must see that?"

"I do. Of course I do. But I will not harm Mary."

"Then you don't want me anymore?" The lady's voice drops. But Robert steps away from the door in a daze. He doesn't need to hear anymore. He understands. Matthew was lying to Mary. The lady in there was his lover. A lover who wanted her rightful place in his life before his death. He hadn't thought that was Matthew but maybe being a father and his life being so unjustifiably cut short had made him chase at anything and everything. He leans back in the chair outside. Should he tell Matthew that he had heard? Confront him? Should he call Mary? No. That seemed overly harsh. It isn't his secret to tell and to be honest Robert thought that Matthew deserved the shouting and screaming from Mary. He deserved to suffer when he told her. The only option he can see as sensible was to tell Cora.

How though was he to tell Cora something there was no way she would believe? He didn't believe it.

Matthew having an affair.

That wasn't Matthew. And to invite the woman to his office, where he was likely to get caught. It all seemed very sloppy, but it was as plain as anything. Matthew and this unknown woman had been having an affair and she now wanted, it appeared, for him to admit it to Mary.

The door to his right opens and Robert makes himself alert again. Who was this woman?

"I see it is time for us to go our separate ways then. I'm sorry for that but I refuse to continue unless you tell Mary. You might be dying but she deserves your honesty." The lady walks backwards out of the door as she continues talking to Matthew who must be holding it open.

She has a small frame. A dressmaker would call her petite. The cheek he can see is rosy pink and matches perfectly the flaming red hair falling down her back. Her profile is quite stunning and her voice soft but firm. She knew exactly what she wanted and she seemingly wasn't afraid to ask for it which proves her prior knowledge of Matthew. There is an air about her person that one can't help but fall for. She had an innocence in the way she held herself and spoke that made you think she was a younger woman than she is. She seemed distantly familiar but Robert can't place her.

"She might deserve my honesty Lavinia. But in the long run the deed is done."

Lavinia.

It was the clothes. Seeing all that hair. He knew he'd seen her before. Carrying a newborn baby Edward and then later coming and checking on the baby with Bertie. Both times she'd been dressed in her smart nurse uniform rather than a soft pastel dress and heels. She gives Robert a nod and a smile as she turns into the waiting area.

"Ah, Mr Crawley Senior! How is baby Edward?" Robert wants to ignore her, to tell her he is not going to speak to a woman who sleeps with a married man. After all, it makes her as stupid as Matthew—fancy chasing after another woman's man. That is what Cora had always said about those women anyway. He can't be rude though, she was a guest in his establishment and bad press was not the way to go and surely this was a woman who would delight in bad press for the Crawley's. She might decide to try and bring Matthew to shame that way. Robert was well aware of the lengths people went for matters of the heart.

"Edward is very well. Growing fast and he's getting steadier on his feet."

"I am pleased. That pregnancy was quite an ordeal for your wife." Robert only nods before she disappears around he corner, her heels scampering down the stairs a second later.

"Robert I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. How are you feeling?" Robert is dying to tell him that he was feeling fine, that his stomach doesn't hurt anymore and that there is no taste of blood in his mouth these days. But he can't say that because, quite honestly, he feels completely sick to the bone. More sick than blood churning in his throat. In fact, in contrast to the last few weeks there is nothing burning at the back of his mouth. The sick feeling that is burning at the sides of his head and ringing in his ears has penetrated from somewhere far deeper. His heart.

"Actually Matthew I'm not feeling wonderful. I'm going to go back upstairs. I might even go home. Can you email me the stuff on these pensions?" He hears Matthew agree but all Robert can think about is what he's just said. Email? Asking for something to be emailed. Yes well, it was better than punching his son-in-law in the face which was the other option his brain had been toying with.

Phyllis stands waiting for him by the doorway with an expression as close to death as the one's seen on the faces of a crowd around a coffin.

"You saw then. Or heard maybe. I did tell them they shouldn't be carrying on in such a way at the office. That it would become a habit." He stares in disbelieve. His mouth opening and closing without any words passing through them. Phyllis knew. Everyone in the office seemed to know. Everyone in the office seemed to know that Matthew had been ruining his daughter's life. His eldest daughter. The one who many of them had seen as a a baby or at very least a girl. The daughter they had gushed over and brought sweets for and made tea. But like all things in life people were hypocrites. They had worked for him all these years and yet it was the third cousin once removed that they all protected the secrets of now. Not his daughter who had far purer Crawley blood. Oh no, they preferred the man who sorted their wages. It figured really.

He doesn't snap at Phyllis though. The look in her eyes tells her that she is on his side, on Cora's side, no matter what. She had obviously stood up to Matthew at least once in his absence already and that showed Robert that backbone of steel that she had. Phyllis would not be wavered from the right cause.

He slouches onto the settee in his office and pinches the bridge of his nose before sitting with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He stares at the carpet quite unable to see it.

"Here." Phyllis prizes his hands from his face before pressing a cup of tea into them. "I've called Cora. I thought you might like to discuss it with her."

Did he? Do he want to discuss that the man he had been so happy to let Mary marry was in fact a complete disaster. Did he want to admit that he had got the situation wrong?After all, it was for the father of the bride to worry about these things. Did he really want to admit to Cora that this day reminded him of only one other in his entire life? The day that had, until this one been etched in his mind as the worst day of his life. At least then he hadn't been partly responsible. It had been ghastly but not his fault. He should have saved Mary whereas their unborn baby had not been strong enough to be saved.

* * *

 _The screaming didn't stop. If anything it got louder. Much louder. It wasn't just screams though, she sobbed too. The sobs are the worst. They are long and drawn out. Big and teary. The nurse keeps telling her, them, it will be fine. That crying won't help but she cries on._

 _She cries between the pushes. The upper half of her body trembling and shaking beneath his hands. Her eyes are blotchy and her hair sticks to her forehead but he doesn't know if it's with sweat or tears._

 _He knows his presence is bringing her some little comfort as she holds his grip firmly. Her sweaty palm stuck to his. He'd given up whispering things to her. Telling her that she was alright and he was here. He would have carried on but she'd snapped, telling him that it didn't matter whether he was here, it was what they were here for that was so dreadful and so painful. That was around the time the pitiful sobs had started but he hadn't left. How could he leave his darling Cora when she was aching in far more ways than one._

 _He hurt too of course in many of the same ways. This was their baby they had lost. Their first son. A son they had filled Clarkson's practice with squeals of joy over when they'd clearly seen, on the monitor, the parts that gave this baby away to be a boy. To think that was only a month ago and now..._

 _Nothing._

 _Silence._

 _Cora's screams stop. But no cry fills the room like one might expect. Silence was deadly and none more so than this one. The nurse covers the bundle resting in her hand in a towel and turns away from them. She says nothing. She doesn't need to say anything. Why would she when Cora had been rushed into the hospital only two hours ago and told that the baby's heartbeat couldn't be found. That she had miscarried. The placenta had detached. This nurse didn't need to say a word. They knew._

 _Yet, it seemed so cold and unfeeling to hide the baby away as if he was life threatening or disease ridden. She seemed to be turning her back on them as if they weren't the couple who had made this baby and would have, very happily, brought him safely into the world and loved him if the cards had played that way. It's as if the nurse was deeming both them and the baby unsuitable._

 _Rationally he knew that wasn't it at all. She was protecting them from more grief by hiding the baby away but it didn't seem right for them not to acknowledge him at all. To acknowledge that they were beyond just sad to have lost him._

 _"Might we...can we see him?" He sees the nurses shoulders lift at the words. Her head turning slowly at his words. He doesn't look at Cora, her intake of breath and the way she grips at his hand so much harder are an indication that she agrees with him._

 _"We don't usually allow...it can be very disturbing." Cora's hand squeezes in his once more and he feels droplets of water land on their joint hands. Her tears._

 _"Please." Cora's voice is strained but she reaches out for the nurse nonetheless. She moves towards the bed and places the bundle in Cora's arms._

 _Robert is first taken aback by the dark red, almost brown leather colour of the tiny boy's whole figure. He has a film like glaze covering his whole body that is seemingly holding together the long spindles of his toes and fingers._

 _The other such obvious difference to any other baby he has seen before is the size. The whole of his body fits in Cora's two hands. He was nineteen weeks old and yet he fitted in her hands. It seemed unbelievable that a baby had survived from being born at twenty-one weeks.*_

 _His legs poke from the ends of the blanket, their thin spindly structure like that of a skeleton with the foot so much larger in comparison to the leg._

 _His arms are the same, and seem infinitely more precious by the fact they look as though they might snap. One arm curls up to by his ear, he other lies across his stomach. Each hand quite a considerable size compared to his arm; all the fingers are easily recognisable. The elbow joint looked as though it might break just by being touched, yet his hand looked so life like, as if it could curl right around Cora's finger._

 _His head is glazed in the same film as the rest of his tiny form. The eyelids, nose and mouth distinct already on his face. The lips are even slightly parted as if he is trying to breath. His whole head is a third of the size of his body but he still seems completely perfect._

 _Robert finds himself moving away, completely unable to even breath. He takes a long, deep breath but it doesn't stop the tears._

 _"Oh Robert. He is so beautiful." He can only nod, his back still to her. The tears bubbling by the corners of his lashes. Burning. "We should pick a name."_

 _He turns around suddenly, a breath getting caught in his throat and a lump forming where it stops._

 _"Well-" he clears his throat roughly, quite unsure of himself- "we had decided on Robin." He sees the tears in her eyes then as she looks back down and whispers the name onto their baby's still and silent face._

 _He forces himself back to her side. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders and kissing her temple._

 _"They'll be another chance Cora. We'll have another baby." She nods hard but her tears fall onto Robin's chest, right over where his heart should still be beating._

 _"There won't be another Robin though. We should take a picture. So we never forget. We shouldn't forget him." She looks up at him with sparkling eyes and Robert tries to hide his own tears. He tries to stop them from coursing down his face and dropping onto Robin's toes. No, they shouldn't forget but Robert found it awfully difficult to believe that they ever could. More tears drop onto the little boy. The tiny person that Robert so wished they had been able to get to know; to watch grow into their son. Robin Crawley would have been a fine chap._

 _He finds the camera in Cora's bag and snaps two pictures. He isn't really sure whether they look right, the image before him is too blurred with his own tears._

 _He reaches for Cora again but not so much to support her his time but to support himself. He felt ill, not physically but in himself. He felt as though a part of him was missing. He knows which part it is, the part that had so wholeheartedly loved Robin. The part of him that had changed his working hours and defended Cora to his mother. That was the part of him that was breaking inside._

 _It was a slow break, not clean. It left a searing, stinging pain around the edges that seemed to spread in his blood. Making his limbs go soft and refuse to hold their shape. It also seemed to take itself, from the little spot in his heart, straight to his eyes causing them to water over._

 _He tentatively touches Robin's toes as the nurse suggests that she take him away. Cora rubs his cheek and both of their tears fall jointly onto him as the nurse lifts him from Cora's hands. At least they had sent their love with him. Sealed in their tears was their everlasting love even if Robin had never known that he had been loved._

 _Cora holds him close, her nails scratching at his shoulders. He shifts to sit rather precariously on the side of the hospital bed her body still collapsed against him. Her tears pool on his shirt and his likewise stick to her neck and trickle down to her collarbone. Their bodies shake together, his tears becoming as loud as hers and they echo in the empty room._

 _"I did love him so." Her words are disjointed as she mumbles into his shoulder but Robert eventually understands her meaning._

 _"Me too Cora. Me too." She sniffles sadly._

 _"Do you think he knows how much we loved him?" It was peculiar how oddly sentimental life became in the face of such trauma._

 _"Of course Cora." It was strange to think that they both accepted that answer. That Robert himself didn't think he was lying as he tells Cora such a thing. It was a comfort though to have those lies. To be blissfully unaware of reality and pretend that those tears of love would really be appreciated by Robin. "And if nothing else we shall remember." She nods, a final tear escaping over her lashes and dropping silently onto the bedding that was tinged with the last fragments of a blood that had belonged to their Robin. His tiny frame, Robert knew, would be with him forever. The tiny perfectness that had been his first born son would not be something he would forget._

* * *

 _*_ the earliest recorded premature baby to survive in the year of 1997 was twenty-one weeks. I believe it has decreased since but that was what I had to quote here to remain accurate.


	32. Chapter 32

AN: I am sorry about the false start on Friday with this chapter! It's actually turned out to be one of the longest so I hope you think it's worth it.

The first section is some angsty smut which you can skip if you're not into that. The second is some fluffy Cobert, the third part is more of a plot progression.

As for the next update I don't think it looks like I'll make it to it by Friday (you might be lucky but I doubt it) so keep a look out over the weekend and early next week. I'm hoping for Tuesday at the very latest. Enjoy!

* * *

 _The gloss on the photograph was wearing away at the places where her fingertips left their sweat behind. She couldn't put it down though. It was her only comfort in the darkness of the night when she awoke from yet another nightmare and couldn't face waking Robert anymore. He thought she was over them; that they had stopped occurring weeks back but they hadn't. It wasn't that she didn't want to admit to him that she still woke every night, her hands flying to her abdomen in the hope that her vision of the tiny baby boy was just a nightmare and wasn't reality. It was more that he was doing the brunt of jobs at home at the moment and trying to make up for her lack of ability regarding being a good parent to the girls, he needed his sleep. She knew she should be pulling her weight but Robert seemed to just quietly move around her, not bothered by the hours and hours of work he was having to do just to keep home life ticking over—food in the fridge, petrol in the car._

 _The truth was she was struggling to turn her mind to anything. Edith had even started trying to lift herself up onto things but she couldn't seem to encourage her or even assist. The only time she felt content was when she was looking at the photograph of her little baby Robin in the dim light from her torch—she daren't turn the lamp on and wake Robert. There was a peace in that, talking to him and telling him everything that was happening in the family, or all that she had taken note of anyway._

 _Last night had been just the same, in fact Cora knew somewhere within her the problem had got worse last night. She knew this because this morning, rather than getting up straight away and trying to start some chores or pretend she was attending to her daughters she is holding the photograph. The picture that had previously only appeared in the middle of the night. It is clasped in her sweaty fingertips in broad Monday morning daylight._

 _She didn't know what she was expecting but somehow she hadn't thought it would look the same in the brighter light. She had assumed that the darkness had exaggerated the dark red of Robin's whole form and the dark hollows around his ribs, elbows and knees where the muscle hadn't yet started forming around the basic skeleton. But if anything the morning sun emphasised these exact points. In the dark she could almost pretend that his eyelids would open to reveal eyes the shade of his father's but in this light it was clear that a thick protective film kept the eyes firmly closed and that he had no eyelashes to protect against infection._

 _She chews the inside of her lip with a new resolve. She was still a complete mess and she couldn't see that changing any time soon but Robert did deserve some recognition for his efforts. He was grieving too but at least he was not giving up on their other two children or failing at the simplest of tasks; tears erupting from nowhere. He was silent a_ t _night though, completely silent and that was a dead giveaway to Cora that all was not right._

 _She knew that his late night trips to the bathroom were more than just about grief though. She hadn't been a very attentive wife lately. In fact she hadn't been a wife at all. She felt that now was the time to rectify this after all she had been given the all clear by the doctor two months ago; to think Robin would be four months old._

 _Why she hadn't though of Robert and his desires last night when she'd been lying awake and heard him take a trip to the toilet she didn't know. But the point remained that she had thought of it now and she ought to take action. He didn't deserve her silence. He never did deserve such treatment but now more than ever he deserved her full attention and she had given none._

 _She changes in a hurry, the time was against her. She needed to get to the office long before nine and it was quarter past seven already. She doesn't change in so much of a hurry that she isn't perfectly dressed, it was the most time she had taken over her appearance in weeks. She could also understand her own self for the first time in a while. She did want Robert. The thought of what she was planning did make her body bubble with some excitement, a feeling she had thought had been lost with their son._

 _She changes her skirt three times, it seemed she didn't fit into the mini black skirt she used to wear for such saucy endeavours but after having two children in such quick succession one of her old regular work skirts was a little tighter and rested nicely above her hips, allowing her to tuck a blouse into it._

 _Downstairs she finds Violet already settled in the living room, Monday was the morning she came and saw the girls. No doubt Robert had got them both up and dressed when he'd risen not that long ago. He'd been getting up earlier and earlier recently and heading to work long before seven, no doubt that was also due to her lack of interest. He was usually rushing to work with the threat of being there long after Elsie but not these last few months._

 _"Violet can you cope with the girls for an hour and a bit? I've got to take something into the office that Robert has forgotten."_

 _"Yes. Well, you seem to have forgotten your skirt." She had the traditional Violet look on her face but Cora only looks away, Violet wasn't silly she knew what was going on, it was written right across her face. "Which was no doubt intentional." She spins on her heels and goes back to the girls. Violet's warning had reminded her to grab her long coat from the rack as she snatches her keys from the hook—she didn't want the office staff glaring at her rather racy fishnet tights. It was a shame Violet had spied them but never mind._

 _The traffic is non-existent and she arrives at the office at an easy half past seven._

 _She meets Belinda at the front desk who opens her mouth in a condolence and tags best wishes on the end assuring her she would recover. She wants to slap the woman. What did she know? What did she understand about how it felt to give birth to a baby you knew was already dead. A baby that you love just as much as the two you have walking in the world. To hold this child who looked so ready to breath in through his mouth and open his eyes to gaze up at its mother. Belinda had no idea of the nightmares, the screams she heard and worst of all the silence that existed between her and Robert, as though a binding point of their relationship had been taken with Robin. She was fast realising that she needed his direct support in all this. They couldn't grieve separately anymore with him just silently moving around her and her ignoring his presence and problems._

 _The look on his face as she steps through the office doorway, her coat no longer pulled around her front, is wide eyed. His darkened eyes shift away from her as she locks the door behind her. He stands, pushing the cap onto his pen and placing it with far too much precision on the desk._

 _"Cora-" He holds out his hands, fingers up in front of him as she steps once again towards him._

 _"Sssh Robert." She places her finger on his lips and pushes his chest to urge him back towards the chair._

 _"I don't think-" she pulls the knot of his tie but his hand grabs hers, turning them both sharply so her body is shoved against the edge of the desk. She doesn't miss the way she gasps or how his body presses against hers, his breath deep and shallow on her neck and collar._

 _"We-"_

 _"Cora, let me finish." His voice is gravelly by her neck, rich with sincerity and a lacing of desire. "I don't think I should let myself be with you until you feel better."_

 _"I am better." Her voice shakes and she's only relieved he is not looking at her, that he seemed to be more focused on keeping them both perched against the desk. "It is you who is so bad. I heard you get up in the night and I won't...I'm a better wife than that Robert, please." She tilts her head up hoping that his lips will fall to her neck with her movement. Her hips slip forward with the shift of her head and her thigh gets pressed to Robert's front. She thinks nothing of it but the sudden break in his breathing and the turn of his neck backwards so she can see his smouldering eyes alerts her. She shifts her thigh again to see if the same effect will occur and Robert's head falls backwards his eyes closing._

 _He forces them back open as he looks down at her, his digits pressing hard into the sides where she had tucked her blouse into her skirt._

 _"Cora. I'm fine, last night-" but she ignores him. The strain of his trousers was quite clear to anyone and a groan erupts from his mouth as she straightens from the funny position he had pinned her in and rests herself square against him._

 _He forgets his previous sentiment in seconds and shoves the button on the remote hidden in his drawer (to turn off the CCTV) at the same time as his cold fingers make her gasp as they contact a slither of skin when hoisting her shirt from the top of her skirt and over her head._

 _There's a distant crash as what sounds like the contents of half his desk falls to the ground. She can't turn to see through as the firm pressure of his mouth on her shoulders pushes her backwards. His kisses are hard and deliberate, she can't so much as keep her eyes open as he licks and nibbles in the curves of her collarbones._

 _She grapples her hands randomly above her desperate to find the muscular skin of his chest. Just above her hips on her back his hands swirl delightful circles that match the suckling that resonated from the swell of her breasts._

 _Her bra pinches at her shoulders as his mouth deftly moves part of the lace cup to bruise a far softer piece of her skin. She'd never known something so simple could be so gratifying before Robert, the suction he managed to create between his mouth and some of the most sensitive skin on her body was completely consuming._

 _Only when his lips pause can she focus on what else he is doing. His hands are splayed on her lower back, above her skirt. His fingers keep dipping below the waistband of her skirt, teasing at her tights._

 _He moves off of her and she, without distractions, is able to assess her position. Part of her back, that wasn't protected by his hands, was pressed to the top of his desk. His fountain pen is by her left ear but to her right there is nothing on the desk (the crash from earlier comes to mind). She lifts herself onto her elbows only for them to give way as she gasps in shock at his hands pulling her whole body nearer his, back towards his chair. He doesn't pull her right off, his hands suddenly gripping her thighs and shoving her skirt up to her waist. Her tights come down next and Cora finds herself moaning softly as his nails dig into the place beneath her bra, lifting her into him._

 _She tries to sit up, to find his shirt but his hands start massaging their way up her thighs and she falls back causing spots to appear before her eyes as her head hits the desk. Between those spots she sees images of Robin again; his tiny form and the tears that had dropped onto him from her eyes. Tears well up behind her lashes at the image; the burning in her chest drowning out the sweeter sensation at her abdomen that was craving Robert. The grief seeped into every cell in her body, the passion seemed suddenly doused as though the grief was the new water that quenched the fire but left a clear mark of its own._

 _One single tear slips beneath the folds of her lashes and runs very quickly down the curve of her cheekbone, slipping uncomfortably passed her ear lobe and into her hair._

 _She contemplates protesting to Robert. Asking him to stop. Maybe she had made a mistake and he was right; she wasn't ready. The grief was still to much. She couldn't even enjoy Robert making love to her without the grief overtaking her. Indeed she lifts herself up to do just that, his attentions to her body having seemingly stopped when the grief gets quieted by the blaze of passion that peaks between her thighs and a heady moan that rushes into the air above her._

 _His tongue is wet, so very wet against her opening. She can feel the pulsating within her, the coil of her passion trying to reach closer to the point he was offering his love. Her hips lift involuntarily and Robert's firm grasp holds them against the desk. She realised now why he can shifted her right to the edge of the desk, so he could lick and kiss her so deliciously. He presses an open mouthed kiss straight to the spot directly in line with where she is unraveling so very quickly. She groans hopelessly and finds herself widening her thighs in an attempt to give him better access. One simple flick of his tongue following a simple kiss that really wasn't anywhere near where she wanted it is her undoing. She feels the coil spring open, the passion that had been so deeply hidden for four months bursting through the gates. She could honestly say she had never come so fast. She calls out, the sticky wetness slipping onto her thighs and probably his hands but her calls of pure pleasure quickly seem to take a darker turn._

 _Her shortness of breath reminds her of nothing but how she had felt after giving birth. Before she knows what has quite happened she is sobbing. Passion long forgotten all she can see is the hospital._

 _Robin._

 _Blood._

 _Tears._

 _Her arms flop from where they had been resting on her tummy. They fall to her sides, her wrists bouncing on the polished wood. The tears make that same route as before, straight down her cheek bone and to her ear. One annoying one slithers into her ear but she can't so much as lift her hand to flick it away. The sweat on her back keeps her stuck to the desk and that at least was a reminder that this wasn't the same. She hadn't given birth. She was in Robert's office._

 _"Cora." His voice is husky and alluring somewhere in front of her but she sniffles softly, moving her hand to push the tears from her eyes, he didn't have to see. He'd think she was still recovering from her release. Before she knows she finds herself being repositioned; Robert's large hands tugging her knees to sit around what can only be his waist._

 _She wants to grabble with him, to ask him to let her go. That he'd been right, she wasn't ready. But some other part of her was bubbling in protest at those thoughts, swooning as his hands lift her hips from the desk, the rest of her back unwillingly separating itself from wood._

 _Her bra clasp was leaving a groove in the middle of her back, stickier then any other part of her spine. The strap seems to make that area of her back more sweaty, that from her hair and neck was running to the dip in her back only to find the obstruction of the clasp and instead soak unwillingly into the material. Slowly making it sodden, like wearing a damp swimming costume._

 _Her tears grind to a halt, his mouth reapplying itself to her breast roughly._

 _"Eeeerrr, Robert...um." His hand roughly pushes itself up her leg between them, to nudge at the still damp curls. With his mouth now taking her nipple between its teeth through her bra and his thumb pressing it's full pad to where she wanted a far more substantial part of him, she moans again._

 _He breathlessly gasps at the dip between her cleavage murmuring something about 'divine'. She takes the opportunity to pull his tie from its knot but when she reaches for his shirt she only gets the first button to succumb before he's pushing her hands away and pushing her to lie on her back. Her back grumbles in complaint at the roughness of it all but she doesn't have a chance to complain because he joins her on the desk, one knee by her thigh, although his other leg must stay on the floor._

 _The next thing she feels beneath her fingers is his bare chest, the junctures between his muscle. Her hands wander to his stomach to find the lean muscle that was so well toned. He was completely above her now, her legs still clinging to his waist and their mouths jostling to a complete dance of their own. She pushes her tongue harder against the roof of his mouth, grabbing a whole tuft of his hair as she tries to urge his tongue deeper into her mouth._

 _She gives a brief thought to being careful not to topple the desk, but her thoughts are distracted as Robert makes his customary exploration of her jawline and neck. Mumbling more words about 'beauty' and 'tasty'. All it did was prove to Cora how bad she had been. He never said such shallow things usually. He always formed full sentences and spoke them to her not against her skin. But it seemed in his erotic haze he couldn't bear to be parted from her skin._

 _She knew that should make her happy. That she should be smiling that a man wants her so desperately and better still the man she had chosen. But her thoughts are clouded instead by the realisation that Robert is unzipping his trousers and that this time they would make no baby—she'd been to the doctor's to have a contraceptive coil refitted. No Robin was going to shimmer into this world. There wouldn't be a master Crawley to grow up looking like his father. To run in the gardens at Downton with his two bigger sister's close on his heels._

 _She'd dreamt it all with Robin. She'd seen every step of his life up to the age of three before her eyes since she'd held him that day in the hospital. The ring of events had played in her head over and over for the last four months. Thinking of it now; that she should be going home to her little newborn (for that is what he should be) curled in his crib. She wouldn't even be lying on Robert's desk with her tights by her ankles, her skirt bundled up and her bra askew. She wouldn't be having sex. She'd be nursing a darling baby._

 _She doesn't try to stop the tears this time. She doesn't have to pretend because her eyes close with the sensation of Robert pushing inside her. The tears just get trapped behind the lashes._

 _She focuses on his thrusts. His groans against the underside of her breasts, anything to wipe away her darling Robin. She prays to herself that he will come quickly, that he won't try and wait for her release. She thinks her chances likely, she couldn't remember the last time he had been quite so hard when he'd entered her, nor his guttural moans so deep._

 _She ends up blocking out the pleasant sensations despite her best efforts to focus on them. She misses the way he rubs so deliciously, getting closer to the place she was unwinding quicker than she would like. She couldn't revel in the pleasantness of it all when her baby was gone from the world._

 _She couldn't say if it was five minutes or five seconds later that he slumps on top of her, his moan of satisfaction and accompanying heavy breathing crushing her to the desk. He kisses along the base of her chin but all she wants to do is push him off. He coaxes his finger to where her desire had been building but she moves her legs and sits up. He'd done what she'd come for, he'd had his release and she'd been a good wife. He'd been right that she hadn't been ready. Her thoughts spin with nothing but Robin. Clothes she would have picked out; trips to the park; carrying him on her back. The tears spill over with her anger at it all._

 _"Did_ _I hurt you?" She shakes her head softly but she knows by the look in his eyes that she hasn't fooled him. He pulls his shirt over his head as she readjusts her blouse. He perches on the edge of the desk, realigning his tie and watching her. Assessing her. She blinks back the tears and the images, focusing instead on trying to look happy and content. He has sorted his trousers and tucked his shirt back into them by the time Cora has redressed herself. She hoped he wouldn't be finished and that she could just leave but he stops her, clutching her waist._

 _She only had to look into his eyes and the tears begin to seep down her cheeks again. He would have had those eyes she is sure of it. Baby Robin with his daddy's eyes._

 _"Oh god Cora. I knew. I knew I shouldn't have." She says nothing. What was there to say? Instead she races for the door. Her head thumping and her vision blurry. A shattering sob ricochets around Elsie's office as she runs though it. It matches the thump of Robert's hand hitting the desk behind her._

* * *

Heavy.

That was the ache she could feel between her thighs, a dull heavy throbbing. Drifting into consciousness the memory that had sprung to mind at the heavy sensation was not the most similar to the experience that had left her with her current discomfort. Last night hadn't been some kind of angst and grief infused rush. No, last night had been calm and gentle—it was Cora's age that was catching up on her.

"Morning sleepyhead." A weight lands by her feet and her groggy eyes shoot open at the sound of his voice so far away. She had been expecting him to be right by her ear.

Her eyes open and take some time to adjust, not surprising when the large window opposite the bed has the curtains drawn back and the vast expanse of the Brancaster estate (and Bertie's inheritance) shifts itself into her vision. The tumbling hills are more rugged than those at Downton. Whereas there the hills seemed smooth these ones were clearly untamed.

Her gaze focuses far more easily, and readily, on Robert who has a tray of food by his side. It was perched over her legs, which had been the weight that had unexpectedly landed by her feet.

"Morning." He chortles a single, short laugh as she rubs her eyes again. "How late am I?"

"Not late exactly. It's just after ten." She curses under her breath and swings her legs out of the bed, cursing again when the tray almost topples off. "Edith and Bertie aren't up yet Cora. There's no hurry."

They'd finally made it to Northumberland to help Bertie set up all the various things he wanted to make Brancaster successful. Elsie and Carson had also joined them and the six of them were making a merry party. There was plenty to do though; hiring people for jobs; looking up the history of the house; banking details to finalise. All in all Cora didn't think she should be late up regardless of whether the others were up yet.

The weekend was a much needed break from worrying about Mary. The situation with Lavinia had not made itself known and Cora hadn't mentioned it to anyone. It was too brief an encounter—just a glimpse outside the cafe—to really know anything. Assumptions had been made but Cora didn't want to accuse, or upset anyone without slightly more evidence.

"I ought to get up."

"Eat this first. I made it especially." He pushes the tray of toast and a bacon butty in her direction. He doesn't just push the food her way though, he moves towards her too, his hand running up her leg to her knee above the duvet.

She ignores him and lavishly covers her bacon with ketchup. She folds the bread over and takes a more than generous bite.

"Especially for me? Aren't I a lucky lady?" She licks a dot of sauce from her thumb and settles back against the pillows.

"You're teasing me Cora. I can tell."

"Um..." She can't think of anything to say in reply other than to smile through her bacon roll—she really hadn't realised how hungry she was.

"I made you breakfast because I knew you would oversleep and I thought you'd likely be hungry when you woke. We didn't exactly settle down early last night." She finishes the bun and licks the last of the sauce from her top lip as he lifts the tray form her lap to lean over and kiss her brow. "I fear I wore you out."

"Not at all." She loops an arm over one of his shoulders, keeping his gaze in line with hers. "We've waited long enough for you to have the all clear from the doctor after your ulcer. It was only right we celebrate."

"I think we might be getting too old for celebrating like we did last night." He leans back on the bed and stretches out his legs. Rubbing the back of one of his thighs wth a wince on his face. She laughs and shuffles closer to him.

"I think it's just because we haven't slept together for quite some time." He doesn't disagree but Cora knows he doesn't fully agree with her views. He gives out a short huff that suggests as much.

"I hope you're only sore because of that, I didn't hurt you did I?"

"Of course not. You were perfectly gentle." She wants to lie like this with him for the rest of the day, it was peaceful and calm. The birds tweeting outside the windows and the trees swishing in the breeze. But, they all had work to do, to help Bertie. And in a few weeks they would be enjoying a holiday abroad. They could laze around then. "Now, we ought to bath and get downstairs." He swings himself from the bed and the next thing she hears is the bath running.

She pushes the breakfast tray to one side reaching for her notebook that she'd abandoned on the bedside table. She needed to spend the day in the library and online, researching the house and it's paintings and photographs. She wanted an in-depth knowledge sheet to put in each room. It would all take a lot longer than today to sort. She'd be lucky if she got half a room done today but a start was a start. Elsie and Carson were looking into the tour route and setting up a very temporary kind of restaurant on the premises while they waited to have one of the downstairs rooms converted. Bertie was going to need some idea of price before that went ahead.

"Cora," he stumbles back into the room with a towel hardly covering his body, "where did you leave the shower bag? I need some shampoo." She purses her lips, hiding a grin behind them. The truth was, in these rare moments she felt as though she could see right into his childhood. As though the little boy that had driven his mother to exasperation appeared before her; scatty and bemused while being incredibly cheeky. She swings from the bed wondering if little Edward was going to find a lady who would love him as much as she adored Robert—their son was proving himself to be much like Robert after all. "What?"

"Nothing."

"It can't be nothing Cora. You're looking at me funny." She climbs from the bed and walks to his side. She presses her hands against the bare skin of his stomach; letting it trace its way to the front of his chest and drag through the curls of hair.

"Kiss me." She pushes her hands around his waist and tugs at where he has the towel wrapped hurriedly by his hips.

"Cora, I thought we said we needed to ease off on all this." His voice has a certain warning, particularly as he pronounces her name.

"You can't expect that to stand when you walk into the room looking so handsome." He rolls his eyes as he tries to pry her hands from his back. She keeps them firmly in place, no doubt leaving crescent marks from her nails in the soft skin between his hip blades. Despite his age that section of skin still retained the softness Cora imagined it had had long before she even knew him—since a baby maybe. Therefore that ensured she pressed her fingers there often. It was a comfort somehow, that they were still young enough to be playing about as they do.

"I need the shampoo Cora." He was awfully stubborn. Always had been. But her fingers stay clasped to his back, after all him trying to pull them off with his own left him at a distinct disadvantage when his arms can only bend back behind him so far.

"Not until you kiss me." She pushes her nose against his chin, her hands smoothing their way higher up his back along the dip where his spine sits. As if a sudden rush of something—maybe desperation for his bath—comes over him, his face moves, his nose coming in contact with hers as he ducks down a little.

"You will be the death of me." She chuckles against his whispering lips before closing her eyes and tilting her own into his.

She doesn't expect him to part them insistently or for his hand to make a rough passing over her hip before clasping her waist. What scares her more than all of that though is the urgency that seemed hidden in the kiss. Cora knew Robert's lips and she knew when they were trying to convey a message and that was what they were doing now; they seemed to be apologising.

She's half pleased when he stops but then she looks up into his eyes and she knows that she'd been right; he was hiding something.

He opens his mouth but closes it again before running his hand in his hair, dropping a stray kiss to her parting and pulling her flush against him. What on earth was the matter with him?

"Cora?" He murmurs the single word again her hair.

"Yes."

"He wanted me to tell you and I haven't. Now I'm running out of time and I don't-"

"Robert, you're not making any sense. Who is he? What-" Cora spins around at the sound of the door to her room opening without someone knocking. Who on earth...

She turns only to have Edith's whole body crash into hers.

"Oh Mama thank you. Thank you so much. He was so worried the pair of you would not approve and you do. I can't believe it!" She lets go, only to spin in a circle on the spot and grab her in another hug. Cora tries to look at Robert, to ask for some assistance but he seems to have conveniently vanished. Everyone seemed to be talking in riddles. First Robert and now Edith.

"Approve of what?"

"Don't try and pretend to be innocent Mama. I know what Bertie asked of you both and I know your previous concerns. I'm just ecstatic that you seem to have moved passed them and agreed to my marrying Bertie." Cora's eyes widen not in horror but surprise. Edith marrying Bertie? Seeing Edith's face contort into a slight frown she forces herself to relax the muscles around her eyes and instead sink her mouth into a soft smile. She extends her arms, pulling her daughter into a somewhat uncomfortable hug just so she can hide her face.

"Your engaged. I'm so pleased." She pats Edith's back rather too enthusiastically. Clearly Bertie had told Edith her had asked for her permission, she wasn't about to ruin her daughter's good mood by telling her he hadn't. No, she would wait and find a convenient moment to question him on how he was going to look after her daughter and granddaughter. Cora liked him very much, but she hadn't spent enough time with him to be certain of his regard for Edith or any well hidden character flaws.

Cora excuses herself soon after Edith releases herself from her arms, citing the running bath water as her excuse.

The moment she enters the bathroom she flops onto the toilet seat. It's only when she slowly sits up, ready to impart whatever he hadn't heard to Robert that she realises he is sat—not in the bath as she expected—but leaning against the side of the bath.

"I knew I should have just told you." He straightens with a sigh, gripping onto the bath enough to make his knuckles turn as white as the porcelain.

"Told me what?"

"About the imminent engagement." She can't even process all the thoughts that erupt in her brain. She just sits there, her eyes half wide and her mouth only half open. "Bertie said he was going to ask this weekend and I gave my permission. The only stipulation was that I told you." She shakes her head from side to side, drumming her fingers over the toilet. The wooden seat rings with each of her nails, a sharp vibration shooting up her forearm.

"When was this?"

"A few weeks back."

"Weeks Robert! You have known weeks and you didn't think that maybe your wife might want to know her daughter—our daughter—was going to get engaged!"

"I'm sorry Cora." She stands from the toilet and closes the gap between them. She takes his hands away from his forehead before holding his face between her hands, reaching up to bestow another kiss.

"Let's have that bath and get downstairs to help Bertie. I'm not angry with you or him. She'll be very happy with him." He kisses her brow before helping her into the bath and then joining her. He immediately starts cleaning her back before making smooth circles with the bar of soap.

"Nobody will love anyone as much as I have, and will, love you." She blushes and leans back against his chest, tipping her lips to the side of his neck so that she may kiss him there. He was never sentimental but his recent near death escape was showing his softer side.

* * *

Downton.

It was strange. One weekend Brancaster to help Bertie and the next weekend Downton.

Work seemed like a lifetime away but it certainly wasn't far away. He was having work emailed to him everyday and this morning was no different. The second he'd turned his phone on it had blared into a series of emails. He had dealt with everything for today and now he is content to focus on today's events: George's christening.

Robert assesses the scene in the church with ease. He enters to see a small gathering already at the font. Among them he spies many of Mary and Matthew's friends; the vicar who is talking animatedly to Edith and Bertie (probably wedding plans). His mother and Martha are already in a full on conversation—no doubt complaining—on the further side of the font. He's clamoured into a circle with Martha before he can do much as ask if she has seen Cora.

"Robert! It's been such a long time. How's my favourite son-in-law?" He kisses both her cheeks and comments on her dress.

"I'm not sure you can really say favourite as though you have lots of son's in-law to choose from. Last time I checked I was the only one!" She laughs, an outright cry that erupts from the whole of her chest. It was all so brash and American. It was out of place in this church, and echoed off every surface. All the company turns and looks at them. Mary raising as eyebrow and lowering her attention back to George. Robert would have frowned and raised an eyebrow years ago as well but oddly, her loudness was a comfort. It wasn't like Cora at all but it was different from the people he was used to and that seemed to make the whole event more real, and less like it is staged, which it might otherwise appear so.

"What's this you're all laughing about?" Her hand cups his shoulder and her slender frame slips between him and her mother.

Cora had worn lilac which was always a favourite of his on her. She had two panelled sections from an original gown (she loved to use all the old garments) on a another of her long stylish coats.

"Your mother was calling me her favourite son-in-law. I was reminding her I was her only one and therefore I would have to be terrible not to earn that reward."

"Oh I don't know. I could always divorce you and find another son-in-law for her!" She raises her eyebrows with a smirky grin. He can't resist cutting her off mid laugh by pinching her bum. Sure enough she stops but rather than telling him off, or exclaiming at his endeavours she wraps her arm around his waist and they stand comfortably together.

It's not long before the vicar calls them all to attention and they have to gather around the font. Edward predictably chooses that moment to loudly try out the newest words he was learning, enjoying the echo even his small voice could make in the room.

"Edward. Come to mummy." Cora reaches down to lift him into the air. He sits perfectly happily on her hip as the vicar begins the first prayer. He'd been told that he had to be silent all through the ceremony from when Cora picked him up. The deal had been struck at his demands of wanting to run around while he and Cora mingled with the guests.

Due to the only sound in the small chapel being the hushing tones of the vicar as he introduces the godparents and George it's easy to pinpoint the addition of one pair of heeled shoes. The clipping noise they made that could almost be mistaken for water dripping onto the stone floor. Almost but not when it is accompanied by the swish of a skirt and a small voice.

"I came." If Robert hadn't already been looking at the figure in the doorway he would have been now.

The reason?

He knew the voice.

The voice was one of a woman he had tried to cast from his mind since that day in the office. It brought back, shockingly into the foreground of a family event, the questions regarding Matthew's fidelity. The woman who stood before him was none other than Lavinia.

"I'm not sure this is the time Miss Swire." He finds himself stepping forward from the group. Something tells him that isn't a good idea, it is just delayimg the inevitable, but he does so anyway.

"I've waited and waited Mr Crawley. You seem to know what I've come to say and I will not be deterred. Matthew and I had an understanding about what we were doing and I will not see it broken." She steps purposely into one of the pews.

Robert can't understand why all is silent from Mary and Matthew. They stand, George in Mary's arms, content by the font. So content you wouldn't think someone who is determined to snap their lives in two has entered the room.

She is about to lower herself into the pew when three things happen at once. The first of which shocks Robert completely. Cora steps forward and grabs Lavinia's elbow.

"You're not hurting my daughter Lavinia. Not now or ever, please leave." Her voice leaves no doubt of what is meant to happen. Her teeth are gritted together and her eyes have that look that Robert had learnt a long time ago was to be avoided. What he couldn't fathom was how on earth Cora knew about what was going on.

Meanwhile somewhere behind him Mary, far more calmly, says that Matthew had in fact completed his part of the bargain. After that his dear Mama asks the question they are all thinking.

"I'm not sure I understand...what exactly is going on?" A silence falls over the group, nobody willing to make the next move. Robert isn't sure what the next move is. Does he admit what he knows? Does Lavinia tell everyone? Does Matthew confess?

"Matthew and Lavinia have been conducting an affair." Robert makes the unfortunate realisation that his angry thoughts were no longer thoughts but angry words, spoken in a bitter, sharp tone. Echoing loudly in the dome of the church. Violet's laugh quickly follows but is cut off by Robert turning his gaze in her direction.

She's not the only one that has what Robert would deem an inappropriate response to his announcement. The vicar predictably gasps. Cora whispers in his ear.

"You knew?" He only takes her hand and squeezes. That would be enough of an acknowledgement. And yet, he realises suddenly, her tone suggests that she also knew. How on earth had that happened? He hadn't told a soul. Had Cora seen them in the office as well?

Mary, Matthew and Lavinia have the best reactions. The latter both gasp into an exasperated 'what!' and Mary laughs. The brightest, most childish laugh Robert had heard from her since George had entered the world.

"Don't be ridiculous Dad!" She sputters the words out between her laughs. Matthew begins to laugh with her.

"Maybe I should make some things clear." Matthew steps towards all the chaos. Robert just looks between everyone around him, desperately trying to read their expressions. Are they putting it on? Are they lying? "Lavinia and I have NOT been having any kind of affair. She has been giving me some care for my cancer. She's doing a research project for the government on treatments for cancer and patient care. I agreed to be one of her subjects." Robert feels his shoulders physically loosen at the realisation that the worst has not happened. His whole insides are jumping for joy, he hasn't let his daughter down after all.

Cora's nail dig into his palm and he gently loosens them with his other hand. She leans against him, her hat almost slipping from her head as it hits his shoulder. He hears her muffled praise but Robert thinks it may be a little premature particularly when Matthew holds up his hand to stop the chatter.

"But-" Matthew's hard tone stops the general hum of conversation and pleasure. "Some of the treatments are new. Very new. As with everything progression into the future involves sacrifices in the present." Robert feels his throat constrict and the air from around him being sucked into his chest. Everything Lavinia had said in the office made sense now. Robert could see it all clearly. She needed Matthew to tell Mary his life was going to be cut short. She wanted him to admit what he had been doing. As for her wanting her rightful place in his life, that was merely as his nurse and in the progression of brain cancer treatments. "My life expectancy has dropped. And little George is destined to be my only child as my fertility has been greatly effected by the treatment."

He hugs Mary tightly to his side and kisses her head. Mary has tears glistening in the corners of her eyes but aside from that she seemed completely unfazed.

"How long?" Nobody needed to ask what Robert is referring to. They all knew he was talking in week, months and years. How long was Matthew going to be in this world?

"Eighteen months if I'm lucky. I want very much for George to at least have an idea of who I am." Robert's maths was good. It always had been. George would be two if Matthew lived eighteen months. Whether in those last few months he would be even half the man he is now or in fact someone confined to a hospital bed nobody knew.

"I think maybe it's time I left. I'm intruding." Lavinia stands from the pew and eases herself out.

"I'd like you to stay." Mary gestures to the font and the vicar. She shakes her head and keeps her path fixed on the doorway.

"You'll be a part of George's life far longer than I, Lavinia. Stay, for me, if not for that." Lavinia turns reluctantly in the doorway despite Matthew adding his plea alongside Mary's.

Robert sees something different in her eyes this time. Not determination like earlier but remorse. Even a shred of water by her eyes. She doesn't look at Matthew as she turns, instead focusing on him and Cora.

"No. I will go. It will be better for me if I go. Thank you." She leaves before anyone can say anything more. Mary looks after her bemused, Cora helps the vicar get them all around the font again but Robert looks only at her retreating back. When he looks up he catches Matthew's eye. If it hadn't been written clearly in Lavinia's words it was spelt out in Matthew's expression.

Lavinia loves Matthew.

For the first time in weeks Robert feels sorry for her. He admires the curls on her head not in annoyance at their perfection but with appreciation of their delicacy. He assesses her height, before he had thought her short and inadequate for Matthew but now he realised she would fit perfectly beneath his arm. Her retreating figure was hunched though, her shoulders shifting slightly in what Robert could well imagine were tears.

She disappears from view and Robert wonders what her life holds. An unrequited love with a man who is dying. She was unlikely to admit to her family her predicament therefore when Matthew passed this was all going to become increasingly difficult.

He excuses himself quickly. Darting out the church with a call for them to continue. He didn't want to hold up the proceedings and definitely not when it was a christening; all the children he had ever known spent most of the event crying and he didn't want to drag that out.

"Lavinia!" He charges down the path to the road where he can see her taking a left to head for the train station which earns him a beep from the car trying to negotiate the cobbled village as he steps out without thinking. "Wait please!"

She does indeed stop and Robert nearly slams into her. His breathing is heavy which alarms him, he'd ran no more than two hundred metres. Clarkson had said that his general fitness had been decreasing recently, he'd put it down to the ulcer but maybe he needed to get back into playing cricket more regularly. He leans over, hands resting on his knees as he regains a stable enough breathing rate to speak. He stands to look at her, this was not a conversation to enter into lightly, let alone not looking at her.

"You love him?" It wasn't really a question from his point of view, he knows the answer but he didn't want to disturb her or make her think she was being so obvious.

Her green eyes drop. Her slender neck turns to face the other way and her hands knot together. Her lip gets pulled between her teeth and turns a pearl white with the pressure.

"It makes no difference." She shakes her head very slightly from side to side but her eyes stay far from his.

"I disagree. To love anyone is consuming and important. As for facing unrequited love you're better, particularly in this case, letting your heart have its way for a while. The break will be cleaner if you allow that." She does chance a glance at him, her green eyes sparkle to the extent they look yellow.

"And how do you know?" She lifts her hands exasperated, the tears falling freely down her cheeks. "How do you, with the fancy houses and the wife who can't let go of you, understand anything of what I feel?"

"I have a friend. A very close friend who believed himself to be in love with someone. She married his brother and was very unhappy. It took him a long time to move forward and accept she had made a choice, right or wrong. During the time she was so unhappy he was one of her few confidantes. They never had an affair but it allowed his heart to heal, he was dating his now wife throughout most of it. The point is I've seen all this before Lavinia and I know that you need to face this. Not run away."

"But it hurts."

"It will hurt less in the long run if you let it fester now. Enjoy the little time you have left in his company Lavinia. I'm not suggesting anything that will jeopardise his marriage please. But be his friend. Help him and Mary through this as a friend. You will feel better for it."

"I'm not sure-" She gets cut off by Cora calling across the road for him to come back.

"I better go. But seriously Lavinia. The reception is at the Abbey. Anybody in the village will happily give directions." He utters the last part as he runs back across the street.

Cora grabs his hands the second he arrives at the bottom of the church path.

"What was that about?"

"I love you. I'm very lucky to be able to say that." Cora looks at him with a bemused but pleased expression so he just pushes her back inside the church.

Half an hour later, after much to-do about photographs and a little too much screaming from George they finally make it back to the Abbey. Carson pulls him to one side almost immediately.

"A young lady with red hair said that you had invited her to the reception. I let her in, I hope that was right?"

"Yes. Yes it was." He breaths a sigh of relief and sure enough in the hall is Lavinia. Before Robert can blink Mary is talking to Lavinia. A friendship would be good for when Matthew is gone. All was coming right in the world. Or at least as right as it could be with cancer and unrequited love.

What he fails to see emerging in the corner of the great hall is his youngest daughter conversing in very hushed whispers with her boyfriend. Tom Branson and Sybil were hatching a plan, in plain sight.


	33. Chapter 33

AN: Thnaks for all the reviews in the last week, there's been so many of you that I haven't had a chance to thank all that I should have. I've been working like mad to get this chapter ready.

This story is coming close to its conclusion (two chapters, maybe three, after this one) and I am struggling a little with the ending. I've got two or three possible resolutions for a couple of the storylines and I'm not sure which to choose. The other option (which won't seem to leave me) is to keep going (I have whole storylines as yet unexplored). Either way I'm not sure how updates are going to work from now on.

I am not going anywhere after this story (if I do decide to end it) I have a list of drabbles awaiting me and an idea for a three or four chapter fic surrounding series 5 but I'm up for a big change in my life very soon and I've no idea how much time I'll have. If I choose to continue this one, which seems ever more likely, I very well might do so alongside a drabble collection—I find writing canon keeps me in tune with Cobert.

I hope you enjoy this one and I will fill you in on my decision when I next update.

* * *

Rain.

The clatter of a repeated, yet erratic, rhythm. Cora had never wanted to curse the large windows of Grantham House but she did tonight. It is the middle of summer, why was it pouring down like it was the middle of December?

She shoves her feet against the covers and pulls the duvet up under her chin. Robert grumbles by her side but otherwise doesn't wake which is a relief. He was nightmare enough when he woke in the morning and discovered she had stolen all the duvet let alone in the middle of the night when they'd have silly arguments that resulted in outrageous compromises. The funniest of which had been them making a sleeping bag out of the duvet and cuddling in it together—that had been years ago though, back when Mary had been a baby.

A sudden light slashes across the window—lightening—excellent. It brings with it a long period of silence. Enough in fact, for Cora to hear the creek of the floorboard at the top of the stairs.

No doubt it was Sybil. Woken by the storm she was fetching herself a glass of water. Cora nestles beneath the covers again, turning so she can bury her face between Robert's shoulder blades.

It was a mother's nature not to sleep when her child was awake. That didn't pass with time, Cora was fully aware she would be awake now until she heard Sybil came back up the stairs. Sybil was never long when she went down in he middle of the night. Unlike her two elder sisters she liked to return to her room with her glass of drink in hand rather than drink it all in the kitchen. That being the case Cora could predict it would be three minutes at the most before she heard the distinctive screech of annoyance from the disturbed floorboard.

She amuses herself for the necessary three minutes (keeping her eye on the alarm clock) by stroking Robert's back. His striped pyjamas rippling between his shoulder blades as he breathes in and out. She thinks back to a time when she used to lie spooned behind him like this before they were married. They'd make love late at night and he'd be so tired he'd drop right off. She'd always lay awake longer thinking—hoping—she was good enough for him. She didn't do that these days. She and Robert were perfectly happy together. They'd had moments of tension but her mother had always said that those that fought passionately loved passionately and that had seemed to ring true for them.

She lets four minutes pass on the alarm clock before she feels her brow furrow and she can no longer concentrate on Robert. She slips from the bed the second the fifth minute flickers onto the display without a sound from the stairs.

She forgets her dressing gown, fumbling about on the back of the door was a sure way of waking Robert and thus best avoided.

The door handle turns easily but she very almost trips on the first step out of the bedroom. The cold air that was shooting passed her cotton nightdress was far harsher than she had been expecting. Clearly she had left a window open before she'd come upstairs to bed. She's too far along the landing when she starts shivering violently to turn back and fetch her dressing gown so she just skips down the stairs quickly. Which room had she left a window open in? And where was Sybil?

Both questions are answered almost immediately. The front door is ajar; Sybil's foot trapped between it and the frame where she is holding it open.

"Sybil! Come inside. You don't need to be outside. Shut the door."

Cora pulls the door open more and a gust of cold air makes her nightdress flare. That's not her main focus though, goodness, her eyes take in the scene so quickly and her mind goes into shock that she doesn't even reach her hands down to straighten it against the wind.

Sybil stands on the top step just outside the front door her raincoat completely soaked and water falling in torrents from the hood. Next to her stands her suitcase. The whole scene erupts far more clearly into focus when the lights from the approaching taxi shine off the glistening steps and her navy cost. Far more telling than any of those things is the look on Sybil's face.

A look of guilt and complete terror at being caught is painted through the haunted look in her eyes and completed by the oval of her mouth.

Cora says nothing for a minute. She just stares at her youngest daughter. How had she not realised this was going to happen? When had she missed the signs? What even was this? Was she running away because she was unhappy? Or was this Tom?

It didn't matter. All that mattered was that her girl was running out into the darkness.

"Sybil-" she loses the words she wants to say. Instead she pulls her daughter towards her. Wrapping her arm around her neck she hugs her baby girl's head to her chest. She kisses the top of her head before she herself bursts into tears. She couldn't leave. There was no way Cora was letting her sixteen year old daughter walk out the house.

"Sybil sweetheart. Come inside please." Cora is pleasantly surprised when there isn't a rebellion on the steps. The most she does is tell the taxi driver he can go.

Sybil brushes passed her without a word, droplets of rainwater stick to her nightdress where Sybil's coat touches. Cora lugs the suitcase back into the hall. She'd been anticipating a light bag, hurriedly packed with very little in—clearly she'd been wrong.

They meet in the kitchen. Cora occupies herself by putting the kettle on and tapping her nails on the sideboard as it steams and bubbles. She eventually finished the drinks and lays them between them on the table.

"Where exactly were you going and why?"

"Tom was going to meet me at Waterloo station. We were going to Gretna Green." Cora doesn't believe what she hears. She'd thought maybe this was just Sybil. But clearly Tom was the reason behind her sudden loss of any kind of sense.

"Marriage! Sybil we've discussed this...I thought your father and I had made it quite clear that-" she breaks off, not due to Sybil interrupting her but because her head is spinning with so many thoughts her mouth can't keep up.

"Tom and I have discussed it all Mama. It's what is best."

"Best!?" Tears of anger sting at the seams of her eyes. "Are you trying to kill me? You're sixteen and from where I'm looking your education is of far, far more significance."

"That's your judgement Mama, but maybe I think differently." Cora would much rather she screamed and shouted but oh no, her youngest daughter spoke only through gritted teeth. Cora squeezes the bridge of her nose between her fingers forcing herself to calm down—if this took all night Sybil was going to see reason and without her losing her rag.

"You can't have been as sure as you were letting on if you so willingly came in when I found you outside." She takes a long swig of her drink, burning her throat but she gulps it down anyway just so she can discreetly watch Sybil's face. It does flinch, her lips twitch into a slightly unhappy frown before becoming a quivering mess. Her eyes fill with water and she suddenly collapses—shoulders shaking. "Oh my Sybil." She moves around the table to take her into her arms again.

"I was about to text Tom to say I wasn't coming when you appeared. I do love him Mama. I know that shocks you because I'm so young but it's true. The problem is I think..." She pauses between sobs at which Cora gently tells her to leave a message with Tom; she didn't want two panicking young people.

Cora runs her hand across her back as she types a rather long message to Tom. Cora doesn't read it, it wasn't her place. She certainly had always been secretive when she'd first started dating Robert. After a year some his messages became somewhat cheeky or just romantic and she hated sharing that kind of thing with other people.

While she waits her head goes around in circles with Sybil's statements—could a sixteen year old be in love? Would she have loved Robert if they'd met at sixteen or had later life experiences changed her into the woman that had fallen for him? Would Sybil regret marrying before university? Could she, as her mother, allow that?

"But the problem is Tom's traditional values made me think this was the only way. When we discussed it I thought it was more of a compromise than it really was. That's easy to say in hindsight I suppose, but I realised it stood out there." Cora takes another steadying sip of her tea, it seems they were back to more intimate issues.

"In what way were you finding the traditional values Tom has a hindrance?"

"Well..." She blushes her eyes suddenly only becoming visible beneath her eyelashes. "You know he originally said we'd sleep together after, or at the earliest, very near my eighteenth birthday." Cora nods, that conversation was not difficult to remember. "He wants to be married first."

"There's not much I can do about that sweetie. All I know is your Dad had grown up very traditionally, you know what Granny is like, and we did not wait for the wedding." Sybil's cheeks colour for her but Cora finds that maybe this wasn't embarrassing. This was real life and she was in charge of helping Sybil negotiate her somewhat young and very serious relationship. "I admit your father had been in other relationships and had already clearly shown his mother that he wasn't going to wait. But I'm convinced whatever Tom says he can be persuaded. From what you say he thinks you shouldn't be together before you're married. By the fact he planned this wedding, I don't wish to be crude, but he must be fairly ready to want to be with you like that. Naturally I'm not telling you dive straight in. Please wait until you're ready, that is the most important thing."

"Quite the speech Mama." She half laughs as Sybil smiles widely. "What you're trying to say is that I need to try and win him around to my ideas."

"Something like that. I certainly learnt how to have my way with your father but don't tell him that, he doesn't realise." That laugh together before Sybil excuses herself to bed. Cora is about to follow her upstairs when she sticks her head around the doorway again.

"You won't tell Dad will you?"

"Of course not. You and Tom can tell him in your own time."

"One last thing Mama, you do know I wasn't running from you? I love you and Dad very much but I love Tom too now and it seems a balance is going to be tricky." Cora stands from the table and finds herself cuddling her daughter goodnight and assuring her that she had never thought that. A white lie didn't hurt every once in a while. At the end of the day the important thing was she was beginning to understand her youngest daughter again and that had been lacking recently. Now that everyone was back on the same page maybe they could do some negotiating if indeed this was what she and Tom really wanted.

"And I'm not forcing you to choose between him and us but I do have to act in your best interests." She kisses Sybil softly on the head and they cuddle together to haul the suitcase back up the stairs. "Goodnight my darling."

"Night Mama. Love you."

* * *

The first thing he notices is the noise. At Grantham house there is a hushed sound of traffic fairly often that was certainly worse in the front rooms. In comparison the noises of the seaside are sharp and piercing.

The gulls screech at nothing and the waves crash against rocks. Children scream and splash in rock pools while frisbees and balls tumble across the sand. The sounds were all unfamiliar to his ears but they fitted together perfectly, most floating into the background of his conscience.

He hadn't been to the beach in a long time. They came often when the girls were small but as soon as they'd started secondary school they'd taken grander holidays abroad and beached there where they knew the weather was fine; beaching in England had been confined to maybe once a year.

The decision to take this particular trip has been made only late last night when he and Cora had watched the weather forecast and agreed that Edward deserved a treat (they'd never yet made up for leaving him to go to Brancaster and they were soon to go on holiday). The beach had been the decided destination so here they were; picnic rug laid across the sand and little Edward tottering just in front of them a spade clasped precariously in his grasp.

Cora is holding his shirt to stop him falling face first into the sand but he keeps twisting around and trying to make her release her hold.

He attempts to plunge the spade into the sand and dig some up as Robert had shown him earlier but all he manages to move is the tiniest slither his little arms not strong enough to do more. He shuffles the tiny amount into the bucket beside him and tries again.

"Cora I think you can let go of him."

"He might fall." Edward had been tottering about on his feet rather successfully for a good few months now and despite falling occasionally when he stepped over something and then promptly forgot to lift his second foot over the obstacle he rarely fell.

"He's more likely to fall with you tugging him one way when he wants to go the other." She looks at him sheepishly before reluctantly releasing her hands. Edward immediately proceeds to shovelling more sand and then to push his fingers into the bucket mashing the contents together. He holds up his hands, splaying all the fingers, to them.

"Sand!"

"Yes Edward, your fingers are all sandy." He claps them together and watches in amazement as the sand falls back to the ground. He claps them together again and watches the flakes swirl. He laughs and kicks his feet.

"Wash." He holds his hands palm up to him. It was routine they had got into with Edward. When he was dirty they told him he needed to wash and they would take him to the bathroom to do so.

Robert feels Cora's gaze on him, her eyes calmly questioning him as to what they do now. They shouldn't push Edward away, or try and stop him wanting to wash his hands—he was being so well behaved and showing his understanding in asking for his hands to be washed—but there wasn't exactly a bathroom here.

"Come Edward," he stands rather clumsily and lifts his son high into the air, "we shall was your hands in the sea." He points to the waves and Edward immediately starts bouncing on his hip.

"Wash in 'ave."

"That's right Edward we shall wash your hands in the waves." He hits his sandy hands against Robert's neck and shoulders.

When they reach the sea which is some considerable distance from where they had laid their blanket and bags (the tide had gone a long way out) Robert has to sharply inhale at the sensation of the freezing water over his toes.

It was that dreadful sensation of your whole foot going numb when the water first hits the skin, as if the sea could easily be boiling hot rather than about three degrees Celsius. Either way when the wave pulls back and the air was once more allowed to reach the stunned toe it was realised that in fact the water was definitely cold not hot. Before he can so much as question his judgment his feet are swathed in the water all over again.

After three such coverings by the waves he is able to easily step in a little further and lower Edward to the crest of the wave so he can try the coolness against his own toes.

He giggles immediately and kicks them a little, completely enthralled by the splashes he makes. He reaches his hand down, trying to bend over the hand Robert had wrapped firmly across his tummy, to touch the sprays of water.

Robert inches him a little lower, he couldn't stay in the water very long at this temperature it would be bad for his baby health but a little paddle wouldn't hurt. When he doesn't wail at the obvious cold the water must give him Robert lets him stand on his own two feet in the waves.

He bounces up and down with the water, tilting his face to look up at him with a big grin. Robert can tell that he is thinking his is getting away with something they wouldn't usually allow. Robert hold his hands and dunks them in the water rubbing them together to get the sand off.

A sensation of his own childhood washes over him. He can remember vividly how he and his sister had splashed in the sea, his dearest elder sister flicking water towards him as he struggled to balance on the pebbles. He tries it gently with Edward, flicking a little water up behind his knees. He lifts his knees high above the waves in a marching style, turning on the spot to laugh at Robert who has ducked himself to eye level.

He holds out his small hands, an indication that he wants his support. Robert takes them and he immediately resumes lifting his knees up and down, watching with amazement as the water foams where his knee keeps cutting the surface.

His fingers are too cold in Robert's grasp, the tiny little fullness of each of his finger pads leaving a cold sensation on his palm.

"We better get you out of the water little man before I get in trouble with your Mama." He lifts Edward high onto his hip, splattering water behind him.

"No dada. I want pway." He kicks his legs hard against his hip and bashes his fists on his shoulder before curling them over his sobbing eyes. It was amazing how quickly moods shifted with children; one minute they glow and the next they are wailing.

"Hey Edward. Don't do that, you'll hurt your eyes." He pulls his hands away from his eyes afraid he's going to rub salt water in them. "You're getting cold. More water play later when you're all warm again. Is that okay?"

He looks to be processing what Robert has just said before he wraps his arms across his tummy and rubs his arms.

"Snow?" Robert laughs.

"Yes Edward. That's right, you'll get cold like the snow." That's seems to make him understand and he starts twirling his head about, looking for Cora. When he spots her frantically waving from up the beach he smiles warming. "Who's that Edward."

"Mama!"

"And what do you know about Mama and Dada and all your sisters?"

"Love me." He dramatically pats his chest and Robert tickles him.

"That's right. We love you Edward." He asks to be put down. Which was a simple one word he'd mastered alongside a great many others in the last couple of months. Once back on the sand he runs (which was more like a fast walk) towards where Cora is waiting for him. She holds her arms wide and is crouched down which only coaxes him faster. Robert keeps pace with him, ready to catch any potential trip.

He doesn't fall and safely reaches Cora's waiting hug. Robert watches with more pride then ever for the next ten minutes as she sets about helping him build a sand castle. She lowers herself to the sand in her sundress and sits Edward on her lap. He holds the spade and with some assistance he fills the bucket. She tips it upside down for him and then shows him how to tap the base. When they lift the bucket off together it is quickly cast aside by Edward as he peers over to inspect his monument. When he asks Edward to look at him and his little boy spies the camera he is holding he grins madly from behind the little castle.

The picture ends up being a cracker. Edward had crouched so low to the ground to admire the tower that only his unruly blonde curls, his bright smile and sparkling eyes can be seen over the top. His whole body is obscured by the sand creation, his two feet just visible either side of the mound.

"Edward, sit back on mummy's lap with your spade." Edward diligently stands and falls, rather heavily, if Cora's gasp is anything to go by, back into her lap. Robert snaps another photo as he turns to look at Cora and she kisses his nose. It was something Cora had done with the girls, kissing their noses. He had always thought it rather odd and the girls had certainly asked her to stop the moment they could talk but Edward seemed to enjoy it to the extent that he did it back.

Cora suggests that they have a snack and out come her perfectly packed second bag of sandwiches (they had already had lunch) and another of the snack fruit bags for Edward along with a handful of crisps. He was only allowed crisps on certain occasions and very few at a time.

Robert looks at his watch in dismay as they finish eating. They really couldn't be much longer if they were going to be home at a reasonable hour. It was a good four hour drive from Devon to London and he was beginning to wish they picked a destination slightly nearer to home—Brighton maybe. But they did like Sidmouth so very much it seemed a shame not to take the opportunity.

"Dada! Dada!" Edward jumps up and down in front of him, a chocolate finger between his fingers. He is waving it about with another of his trademark smiles spread wide on his cheeks. It was another thing that Cora strictly rationed.

"Are you okay?" That's Cora who offers Edward a second (and last) chocolate finger to quiet him.

"I was just looking at the time. We haven't got long if we want to make it home before nine."

"Why don't we bite the bullet and stay the night? We've got Edward's car seat so he can sleep in that. I bet there's a B and B around here, or even one of these hotels," she gestures along the promenade at the collection that line the seafront, "that has a spare room."

"You've got enough supplies for Edward?" She runs her fingers through his blonde curls as she narrows her eyes in thought. She nods less than a minute later.

"I packed spare clothes and all in case he got wet. He hasn't worn any of that. We've got nappies and milk. It should be fine." He has to marvel at how easy going they had become. With Mary and Edith as small children day trips had been meticulously planned. Edward was having a slightly more adventurous and whirlwind childhood. " _We_ haven't got any clothes though, or pyjamas."

He shakes his head softly at her epiphany and clucks his tongue. She looks at him curiously and he has to smile happily to himself as he shuffles to her side. He positions his hand behind her bottom and runs his nose over her ponytail.

"I'm sure the lack of pyjamas won't be an issue." He can see the corners of her blush from his angle slightly behind her as it spreads across her cheeks. "I'm sure I'm capable of keeping you warm."

"Yes I'm sure." She keeps her gaze firmly pointed away from him which only makes Robert feel more invigorated. He was only a man after all and it rather boosted his ego to know he could still completely unnerve her. She stands after a long enough period of composing herself and begins placing things away in the various bags they had with them. "We ought to go and find somewhere that will have us and then maybe get some fish and chips?"

The stroll along the seafront calling in at each of the hotels is pleasant enough, the waves pound at the rock armour as the tide turns and begins to race for the shore. There is only a slight sea breeze that ruffles Cora's short summer dress but has no impact on his shorts or shirt. Edward walks a few paces before wanting to be lifted up by one or other of them only for him to prefer the ground three minutes later and decide to walk again but aside from that stopping and starting, which continues for the whole walk, they move along swiftly.

The first few hotels are all full but they finally reach the Royal York and Faulkner hotel who have a room free with the added bonus of a view right out to sea. Robert accepts without hesitation and they are taken upstairs.

After Edward has napped for a little while and they had chatted, read and spoken to Sybil about their whereabouts as well as Robert taking the opportunity to tease Cora some more about their lack of any nightwear, they make it out the door to find some trademark fish and chips.

They eat inside rather than takeaway as that is the easiest way wth Edward. The owners are obliging enough even providing a highchair for him. Edward was forward in all walks of his life which made this kind of thing very easy as he was perfectly happy to eat what food he liked from their plates. In fact, he and Cora had quickly learnt that he ate grown up food better than the baby mixes so he tended to eat largely that.

Cora has ordered him his own fish fingers which he seems to recognise from home and happily digest. He watches them with much amusement as they finish their platters. Robert had chosen scampi which was always a favourite of his and he had to admit this one was one of the best he'd had in a long time although he did wonder if that was solely down to the overly generous amount of tartare sauce which he couldn't resist even on the worst of days.

They stroll lazily back to the hotel and Edward is soon fast asleep in his car chair on the floor by the bed.

"Are we going to go to bed? We shouldn't get up too late tomorrow, the traffic is bound to be bad." He heads for the bathroom determined to have a good wash (although he'd shower in the morning).

"I guess. It's not like there's any games to play and we can't turn the tele on or Edward will wake. But I do fear you have ulterior motives what with us having no nightwear." She's appeared beside him in the mirror. Her hands easily curving around his stomach. She briefly rubs the scar there and he can't help but wince. Not because it hurts but because the memories it excites are not really ones he wants to remember. She senses his pain, or maybe she is just teasing him (he's not sure he cares) when her lips press a kiss to his bare shoulder.

"And you're telling me I have ulterior motives." She only laughs softly against his skin.

"Come to bed and dream of...of," she laughs again, her words lost, "I don't know fish and chips!" Their eyes meet in the mirror and they burst into a chorus of laughter which they hush just enough that Edward doesn't wake.

It takes his mind harshly back to a time when a laugh was nonexistent and a smile was a lucky breakthrough.

* * *

 _It had felt so incredibly divine to have her pinned to his desk while he made love to her. It had stoked the baser desires that he'd kept well hidden for some time._

 _Unfortunately, but rather expectedly, things hadn't exactly ran smoothly since. In fact it had got worse. Cora was no longer silent and thoughtful at night, lost in the horrors of the miscarriage. She cried herself to sleep now. She said it was the only way, draining her body of all thought and giving herself a thumping headache was the only way to fall to sleep._

 _He'd offered to hold her but predictably he'd been turned away, he was grateful he was still allowed anywhere near her room._

 _This all being the case he knew it was time to take action. Five months had passed and it was all beginning to have a detrimental effect on Mary and Edith's relationship with their own mother. He wasn't having that anymore._

 _The only person he could think of confiding in was his mother so here he is, a hour before work sat in her front room; the very same out of date room they had announced Cora's pregnancy in all those months ago._

 _He hadn't warned her of his coming hence his having to wait for her to appear but he could get over that._

 _"Robert," she marches into the room with the poise that her title would expect, "I assume your arrival doesn't mean good things?" He flops into the settee, where to start?_

 _"I don't know what to do." He feels the tears welling up behind his eyes, he'd had no idea any of it had got this bad. When had he felt so low he could burst into tears at the slightest moment. He couldn't remember, and here he is like a quivering leaf in front of his mother. "She...she's silent. We don't talk anymore. We move around each other like we don't know each other. She cries at night, loud wailing cries and she refuses to let me comfort her."_

 _He finishes, that was all of it that could really be put into words. How was he supposed to vocalise the part that are just him aching. The seams of his heart that seem to bleed every time they walked passed each other without saying a word. The burning in his ears as the silence between them in bed at night stretched on and on. The tingling curse in his hands that ached for her skin beneath it but at the same time was tarnished from their last encounter and completely terrified of how she might react a second time. He had eyes that ached every morning when they opened, dreading the world he was about to be awake in. The girls were the only consolation. Mary knew something was wrong but she bubbled along and Edith, in a slightly younger way, followed her lead. But it seemed wrong to do all their communicating through the children at the dinner table and then spend the rest of the night in separate rooms watching different shows on the television._

 _"I don't talk often of the heart as it is seldom useful but I know well enough the pain when it is broken. Your marriage is a wonderful one Robert and your sitting here is proof that you want it to work. I know Cora well enough, I think, to credit her with the same intentions. She will get through it."_

 _"It doesn't look likely at the moment." It was all very well saying she would get better. But Robert (and he hated to admit it) was tired of waiting. He wanted to move forward for the good of his life and the girls'._

 _"These trials of life are sent to try us."_

 _"I don't care if they are sent to try us!" He stands from her settee and slams a hand against her mantelpiece. "I just want her back. I want to put all this behind us and have my wife back."_

 _"I must say I thought things would improve the day she went to the office so scantly dressed." There was no point in questioning how she knew. His mother found out everything. "But then as I've always conceded rash decisions so often lead to disappointment." She clucks her tongue and Robert scolds himself mentally. Why had he come to his mother of all people? He should have called Rosamund, she was so much better at making you feel good about yourself when you felt so wretched internally._

 _"Are you going to give me some advice or are you just going to spout a load of supposedly wise phrases that are useless when the time has passed?" He sees the way her eyebrows shoot up and her mouth contorts into that line that seemed to spell trouble. She taps her glasses once on her knee and looks up at him beneath her lashes, her head tilted to one side._

 _"You said something to me once Robert that I've never forgotten. You said that there was no such thing as a marriage between two intelligent people that did not sometimes have to negotiate thin ice. This is your thin ice and the quickest way I can see to break it is melting it." He stares at her dumbfounded and heads to the door. He was not here for riddles. He had a decent day of work to do that he is getting later and later for. Why was it every woman in his life had to be so contrary? Why couldn't any of them just speak aloud what they are thinking or feeling? "Robert!"_

 _He doesn't get even as far as the doorframe, her walking stick sending a stabbing pain down his spine as the point makes contact with his lower back._

 _"Take her on holiday Robert. Just the two of you. Go somewhere she likes, somewhere hot...to melt the ice." Her hand twists about in the air and her fingers kind of click together as if the solution she has just suggested should have been obvious to him. He doesn't like to admit that it probably should have been._

 _He rubs at his back in the place the stick had struck. His mother was really becoming a force to be reckoned with._

 _"Well?" He glances up at her. She appeared to be expecting some confirmation that he is going to carry out her plan. Typical Mama, he thinks, she had always held the relationship, even with her own children, that was at most advisory, and always nearer to a feared headteacher than a loving mother._

 _"I'll think about it."_

 _"Think about it! Robert, I don't wish to sound rude-"_

 _"Which means you definitely will."_

 _"But I don't think time is on your side. Surprise her. Show you're thinking of her by booking it. Sort all the arrangements for the girls first. Rosamund will have them to stay I'm sure. In fact, I can call now and find out." Robert can't help smiling to himself about his mother as she bustles from the room to get the phone. She was more than willing to help in any case as long as it didn't inconvenience her in any way. She would put out every other person she knew to make a plan go her way. It seemed today would not be Roz's day._

 _While he waits for his mother to return he muses over whether Cora would accept the idea. A week away just the two of them to try and rebuild their broken bridges. It seemed ideal to him but he wasn't convinced Cora would want that much time for her mind to fester on the things she was trying to forget. And would he be able to cope with it all if they were hardly speaking to each other?_

 _He traces his polished shoe over the rug. Mesmerised like a child as he watches the point follow the line of the design and being annoyed with himself when he just nudges it too far one way or the other, revealing the rest of the pattern. That was what his life had become, finding stupid interest in their paintings and carpets at home, after all there was so little conversation and silence was no good at occupying the mind._

 _He needed a change. Even is Cora didn't blossom from it he at the very least needed a holiday. He hadn't had a decent one since before Mary had been born. A new scene might refresh his mind; constantly seeing the same rooms and the same streets of London wasn't doing him any good. If anything it was making it harder for him to open his mind and try and help Cora with her grief._

 _"I don't care how so called busy you are Rosamund. I am your mother and I'm asking you to do something." There's a pause from this end of the conversation as Rosamund presumably makes a reply. Clearly the conversation was not going well, his mother was never one to pace about the rooms of the house while she made a telephone call. "It's for the good of your brother and Cora. And they are such well behaved girls you know that." There's another pause and Robert can tell by the static noises he can hear from the other end that Rosamund is getting angry. He gestures for the phone which his mother gladly hands him with a huff._

 _"Rosamund?" Her angry squawking breaks off for a second before she launches into a whole new monologue about how he shouldn't get their mother to do his dirty work. "I will pay you if that will help cover the inconvenience?" The silence on the end of the phone is all he needs. He offers his thanks and hangs up._

 _"You shouldn't have given into her Robert." He marches for the door calling back over his shoulder._

 _"I would give the world and beyond if it meant I could have my Cora back."_


	34. Chapter 34

AN: So I finally got to an update! they are going to be all over the place for a little while longer. I hope to stabilise them in November. either way I'm still going to read everyone's work and keep writing in what spare time I have. I think I promised a note on where this story id going, the answer is onwards. All the next few chapters are planned but none is yet started! I have had loads of reviews from the last chapter that I haven't replied to for which I apologise, they were all read and taken on board with my deepest gratification. Enjoy this and please leave a review to inspire me.

* * *

Robert didn't like to think, and certainly not say, that he was tired of this weekend but that was true and if he even let his mind wander for half a second it was that thought that came to mind.

He knew he was being stupid and childish and that his real issues lay with the two important problems regarding the weekend. Firstly, Cora was not with him and secondly, they'd had to take the unwelcome decision to delay their yacht holiday.

The latter has all come about because of Edith's engagement and her desire to hurry the wedding along. Robert was not against that at all. The quicker Edith (and Marigold) were settled into life with Bertie and they were learning to juggle running Brancaster, his hospital shifts and Edith's magazine, the better. Unfortunately though, hurrying things was resulting in its fair share of friction in the form of Edith mother-in-law to be, Miranda Pelham, who was staying with them at Brancaster for this weekend. It was designed as a kind of bonding session.

Robert knew that phraseology sounded ridiculous. It sounded like some counselling session but unfortunately that was exactly what it felt like. He'd received a phone call from Miranda a week ago explaining that she wanted Edith and at least one of her parents to accompany her to Brancaster with Bertie for this weekend. So far it had all been incredibly tense, and only half a day had gone by, as Mrs Pelham tried to change all the plans Edith and Bertie had for their wedding and Brancaster to those that suited her. She didn't, yet, seem displeased with Edith as Bertie's choice of bride, but Robert didn't see that lasting. Miranda had already made some small comments about virtue and the kinds of women she didn't like (ones that had lots of boyfriends or had children without planning) and it was becoming abundantly clear that Bertie had not been completely honest about Edith's past.

All in all Robert could sense that this evening was going to be make or break point and whichever happened he still had another whole day to survive.

He goes downstairs and enters the drawing room with the bright peach walls that he is becoming quite familiar with. He is unsurprised to see neither Bertie or Edith had made it down yet, they had been planning an hour or so walk to the village before dinner and had no doubt returned late. Their absence surprises him less than Miranda's presence though, she did seem like a stickler for anything that involved time or her 'rules'. She reminded him far too much of his own mother.

"I'm pleased to see you're a prompt man Robert. I don't doubt the Dowager brought you up well which of course is naturally expected of a woman in her position."

"Yes, yes she did. Although she wasn't a Dowager then." Robert slowly takes a seat opposite the lady who was quickly beginning to completely unnerve him. She seemed to see right though everything, just like his mother and the similarities were not pleasing him.

"No, well, I'm sure your mother greatly resented losing the title particularly to your wife. Such a younger woman and American." Robert feels his eyebrows shoot to his hairline, he didn't take kindly to people who talked of Cora as little more than a object.

"I think my mother was more upset that her husband had died rather than to whom she was losing her title." Miranda tilts her head archly and eyes him suspiciously—her gaze narrowing and her pupils becoming like pin pricks.

"But still your wife is American and the title is very much British. I can't imagine that sat well with your mother."

"Cora and I were not married when my father died and truthfully if either of my parents didn't look too favourably upon the match it was my father. Besides whether it sat well with her or not, the law is the law and Cora would be upon her marriage to me granted that title. We married and she claimed the title." He hated those people that sat around and tried to pass their own annoyance at certain events in life off to somebody else. It seemed Mrs Pelham did not think an American should be allowed to marry a British peer and therefore his mother must also have resented it all. It wasn't something he had time for and certainly not when aimed against Cora.

"But did you not think in choosing her you were degrading the title?"

"No. No I didn't." His response was snappy he knew that but how was he supposed to talk to a woman who seemed bent on being rude about Cora? "Besides, if you're talking about the degradation of the Grantham title it started almost before it had begun," he pauses to make sure he has her undivided attention, "the fifth earl married an American in 1889."* He watches as her eyes drop and her mouth slides into a small oval shape. It was so nice to win one over someone so like his mother when he could never manage such a thing with his own dear Mama. A minute passes in silence as she fiddles with the cuff of her sleeve and avoids his eyes at all costs, what it was to have such a woman in the palm of his hand.

"Your daughter doesn't seem to have your promptness."

"No well, I imagine they were later back from their walk than they hoped." Looking at the clock though even Robert had to concede they were pushing their luck with dinner due to start in ten minutes. He doubted Mrs Pelham would like to think her new staff had been kept waiting, after all according to her they were some of the best staff she could find who were willing to work for a funny weekend in Northumberland.

"Yes, well...I may say I was rather surprised with Bertie. I assumed I was destined to never have a daughter-in-law and then out of nowhere he tells me he is getting married. It made me very curious to meet Edith."

"And do you think you will like her?"

"Who knows? You know her better than I, do you think she's being hesitant around me?" Miranda's eyes dart up to his, he has no choice but to hold her gaze, she looked as though she might fight you if you didn't give her an answer. The problem was Robert was well aware Edith was being hesitant and that was largely because her past was rather a grey area. It didn't seem as though Mrs Pelham was a woman that would like her son taking on another man's child and Bertie had not helped himself by not being entirely honest about Edith's past; Marigold didn't at the minute exist for Miranda.

"I wouldn't say so. She's quiet and reserved most of the time."

"Perhaps while she's not here you might be honest with me Robert. Bertie tells me her last boyfriend was in the army, I've heard no more. Have there been other boyfriends?"

"I'm not sure-"

"Oh really Robert. If you're going to suggest it's not your story to tell, all you're admitting is that there is a story. One you would clearly much rather keep hidden." He was really beginning to wish that he had either stayed in his room a little longer and braved being told off for his promptness, or better still that he had stayed at home with Edward and sent Cora on this trip. It was becoming abundantly clear that Mrs Pelham had asked for one of them to accompany Edith in the hope of working out exactly what the family, and more specially Edith, were really like. It reminded him all too much of his parents in the months of his engagement. They had taken no interest in Cora until that point and it had been then that they had pushed their noses into every pie. Not Cora's parents, who Robert felt it would have been natural to carry on in such a way after Cora's past and her having conducted this new relationship in a whole different country to them. But oh no, it had been his dear Mama that had snooped and pried.

"There's nothing to hide. Michael was in the army. He died in active service. His family publishing company was left to Edith."

"But they weren't married were they?"

"No. But I assure you it was on the agenda." Robert had never admitted to Edith that Michael had asked for his permission to propose to her. The truth was he'd since regretted how he had acted. Michael had come to him about a year before his death asking to marry Edith and he couldn't help but be a little protective over Edith and questioning Michael thoroughly. He'd eventually given in and given his blessing but it had become clear quite quickly that his reaction had given Michael reason to doubt and he put it off, to the point where it never happened.

"It's funny he should leave his publishing company to Edith when it was a family business."

"Not really. She is an excellent writer. She knew better than anyone what the magazine needed. He left it in her care when he was abroad so I suppose with her being his girlfriend it all made sense."

"Um, or maybe he was planning what happened later even without dear Edith knowing. After all, I imagine little Marigold is completely entitled to the business?" Robert knows his face must be a picture. The gasp that accompanies it certainly suggests it is. "Yes Robert I know about the child. Does that really surprise you?" The honest truth was that the more Robert saw of Mrs Miranda Pelham the less the fact she had found out all about Edith surprised him. She had clearly gone to great lengths to gather all blackmailing material.

"I suppose not."

"The truth is I have to be sure Bertie isn't making a mistake. This title is pressure. His job is pressure and I don't want him choosing a relationship that will add more pressure. Don't get me wrong, in hundreds of ways Edith is perfect. The titled life and Brancaster; she gets all that, better than him in many ways..."

"But an0ther man's child is a big responsibility."

"Yes. And a still bigger one when Edith has not parted from Michael on bad terms but instead he died fighting for a fairer world somewhere else." She was a queer one that was for sure. From where he'd been sitting ten minutes ago he had thought her annoyance and anger would be pointed towards Edith as a bad choice for Bertie due to her previous relationship that had resulted in a child—it was all certainly against the morals she had laid out earlier that afternoon. Yet, here she was telling him that she could bypass that as long as Bertie was sure he could raise Marigold as Michael would have wished. It was almost as if she was waiting for him to launch into his doubts about the match (of which he did have some which largely stemmed from how quickly it had all progressed).

He's about to respond that it is a hard job to raise another man's child when Edith enters the room and he is interrupted. She skips over to them and apologises for her lateness before handing him the house telephone.

"Mum's on the line. She said you failed to pick up your mobile or something." He taps his pocket and finding it empty he assumes he's left his phone upstairs. That wasn't good where Cora was concerned, she panicked so easily.

"If you'll excuse me." He holds his hand over the speaker until he reaches the other side of the doorframe and has entered the small room that must have once been used as the music room. He puts the phone to his ear only to hear her gentle humming to herself as she waits for him to come on the line. "Cora."

"Oh! Robert, finally!" He laughs at her outright pleasure that is mixed with a slight slice of annoyance. "You really should have picked up earlier. I tried at least five times."

"Sorry I left my phone in my room and I've been busy talking to Bertie's mum."

"Um, have you found out why exactly she was so fussy about one of us accompanying Edith?"

"I don't want to talk about it now. But needless to say the person she reminds me of is my mother!"

"Oh dear. Well...if Edith is happy."

"She is and to be honest, despite my initial reservations I actually think Mrs Pelham might be more resourceful and helpful with the running Brancaster etc than my mother ever has been."

"Um well, that doesn't change the fact I resent her for taking you away from me." He chuckles, a silly sense of pride racing through him at the sound of Cora's 'pouty' voice as she admits to her missing him.

"I miss you too Cora." He blows a kiss down the phone before hanging up, he would hear the others greeting Bertie and heading in his direction.

* * *

Cora had always thought that her wedding had been an awful lot of hype. But somehow none of it had mattered at the time. She had been willing to cling to Robert's arm and recount their lively exchanges in his office during their years of dating without much hesitation. She had laughed when he'd whispered in her ear and been polite on all counts. But none of it, absolutely none of it had been as full on as a whole family photo shoot for a magazine. That was why Cora found herself with nails digging into the bar of the pushchair and her other hand tightening a little too sharply around Edward's leg (he was resting on her hip with her right arm and hand holding him in place).

"Mama! You came. How wonderful. And Edward," Edith takes him from her arms, "how excellent."

Cora wasn't sure what to say, thankfully she doesn't need to think of anything as Edith rushes away to where the camera and bright alights are waiting for them.

Cora wasn't sure where all this had come from. She doubted it had been Bertie's idea not only because it wasn't his style but if it had been surely he would want to be part of the photos. But no, these were destined just to be Crawley pictures. It had been Edith's idea then? But Cora wasn't sure if it had come from the Edith that was the editor or the Edith who wanted to make a real statement out of her wedding. The problem was she didn't think her middle daughter would want a statement wedding, and the other things she had planned certainly confirmed that. But nor did she think she would use her wedding as a way of making profit for the magazine.

What made the whole thing more annoying was that the entire day was going to be filled with all this photo taking for which they were going to have to dress up as though they were actually attending the wedding (although Edith was not wearing her actual dress) and after each take everyone was going to have to change into a complete new outfit. The image Edith said she wanted to create was one of a bridal party—showing of the best bridesmaid, mother of the bride and bridal gowns from London boutiques and even high street stores. Each place Edith had chosen had a set time of arrival and there were two hours between that arrival time and the departure, in which all photographs had to be taken and each of them had to change and redress making sure their hairstyles and make up were reapplied from the last set. It didn't sound difficult at all but Cora knew it was one of those activities that wore you out. Furthermore keeping an eye on Edward—making sure he didn't finger cosmetics, pull wires, trample dresses or get hold of any other hazard when she had her back turned was also paramount.

"Edith, where do you want me to put Edward? Is there somewhere that is relatively safe?" Edith spins on her heels, Sybil giggling by her side, from Mary who is posing with a ridiculous feather hat.

"He's doing it with us. I figured a cute little boy like Edward in a suit would be sure to get people looking at the pictures we take so all the designers are coming with mini tux!" Cora can't help but smile, Edward would be sure to enjoy himself surrounded by all his family anyway but if he got to try on little outfits as well he'd be very chuffed. He found a kind of thrill in being dressed in different things and Cora asking him to stand while she assessed if it looked alright.

"Besides, if one of the designers comes without I'm expecting Lavinia to arrive later so she can watch him." That was Mary, tilting her head to one side and giving her matter-of-factly face in a way that was sure to stop even her own mother questioning what she is saying.

"Lavinia is coming?"

"Yes. She's bringing George with her later." Cora was aware that Lavinia was becoming an ever increasing member of the household for Mary. Not only was she a friend but she seemed willing to babysit George at a whim. Cora wasn't sure it was altogether wise of Mary to befriend a woman who was in many ways helping to end Matthew's life but Mary had always been as contrary as the nursery rhyme said.

At the mention of Lavinia, Cora can't help but think of Phyllis, it had been too long since they had lunched out together or even seen each other outside of the charity. Maybe they should arrange something, yes Cora muses, she would call later—maybe when she is sat bored to tears in the make-up chair.

"Actually before Lavinia arrives there is something I should tell you all." Edith gestures for them to follow as Mary keeps talking. "I knew you think I'm a little silly to befriend Lavinia but I'm afraid she is rather alone in the world. Her mother is dead and her father is too busy being political to pay her enough attention." Cora wonders if any of that should really make a difference, Lavinia is a grown woman with her own income. "And..." Mary takes a seemingly large and steadying breath, "you might not have noticed but I think she's rather besotted with Matthew." Cora feels her eyebrows squeeze together, had she noticed that? Maybe she had, in all honesty it would make some sense of the current situation.

Sybil starts exclaiming over how nice it is, if that is the case, for Mary to befriend her while Edith swings Edward about and makes him laugh. Cora watches it all, her thoughts completely hazy—there isn't one single thing her mind seemed to be able to focus on around her. There is a feeling she can understand though, it's the feeling of being outside what is going on; a spare part that is only really useful for transporting the younger Crawley members to the events where they are needed.

She was feeling her growing age acutely again and she knew deep down she needed that holiday Robert had been planning for months and had now been cancelled again. When she was with him she felt a sense of worth that she couldn't quite grasp when she wasn't with him. It was true she felt needed by Edward but that was somehow different, he was dependent on her whereas Robert was choosing to be with her because he felt her being there added to his existence.

The time in the make up room is predictably slow and boring. There a gentle hum of music in the background and her daughter's keep chatting amongst themselves. They tease each other about their respective other halves and joke about times at school, none of which Cora has a place in. Instead, when she's not required to be tilting her head one way or the next, she watches Edward play with his cars on the floor. He crawls about, calling out all the different noises and sweeping deliberately between the chairs and under the mirrors. He finds the most entertainment in manoeuvring the vehicles between the hairdressers' legs.

"Mama?" Sybil calls her name across the room and Cora finds herself snapping from the world of Edward that she had been immersed in.

"Yes, sorry I was miles away. What were you asking?"

"That picture you keep in your purse of you and Pa, the photo booth one. You never have told any of us how they came into being, it hardly seems like a thing Dad would usually choose." Cora emits a small half laugh easily pulling into focus the single photo, of four, that lay nestled out of sight in her purse. She was also well aware that all of her girls had asked for the story behind that photograph for years. None of them had of yet had an answer.

"No perhaps not. But I will say the hour that led up to those photos were the most embarrassing hours of my relationship with your father." Three expectant expressions stare back at her and she immerses herself in that adventure.

 _She takes a deep steadying breath as she steps up to the knocker. Who would answer? Her mother or her father? She would usually hope for her father but she couldn't help fearing that in this situation it made no difference which it was. They were both highly inquisitive and has been on the edges of their seats ever since she had agreed to come to this wedding (of an old family friend) with Robert as her plus one. In fact, she knew how desperate they all were to clap eyes on Robert because they'd agreed to let him stay at the house in Newport, usually only family were allowed to stay, all others had to go to hotels._

 _"Stop shaking Cora." His voice is by her ear, a reassurance when she'd released his hand (she didn't want to give her parents too much to gossip about)._

 _The door swings open and Cora finds herself startling backwards to the point that it's a good job Robert has his hand resting on the curve of her back._

 _"Cora!" Her mother barely looks her in the eye, her gaze immediately falling on Robert. "And Robert!" She bustles out the door and places a hand on each of Robert's shoulders while Cora shuffles her way inside where she sees her father waiting to greet her. "Oh Isidore he is as handsome as Cora said don't you think?" Her father leans down to kiss her cheek just as her mother half drags Robert into the hall._

 _"Mother please-"_

 _"I can see what you liked so much Cora. The teddy bear face and the dimples. And your unruly curls Robert, are they always like that or did you sleep on the plane?" Cora watches as he opens his mouth to speak only for her mother to put a finger into the air. "Or perhaps Cora has been running her hands through them in the car!" Her cheeks flame and she takes her bottom lip between her teeth—if only she had never told her mother she was coming they could have booked into a hotel. Robert seems to take it all more calmly, laughing softly._

 _"Your daughter is far too dignified for that. I'm afraid you'll be stuck with the curls every day of the week now we are here. No amount of combing gets rid of them!" Cora had never felt more isolated than when they all laugh; it seemed odd that her boyfriend of only eight months got on so well with her parents (and this was only the first visit). She tries to push her embarrassment aside particularly when Robert gives her a wide smile._

 _"Why don't you show me upstairs Cora?" He glances towards the grand staircase, craning his neck as he follows its swirl around. She looks to her mother, immediately realising that Robert wanted to calm her nerves before they got any further into discussion—he was so good at sensing her mood._

 _"What rooms are we in?"_

 _"Rooms? Oh no Cora dear. I know your father and I used to be very strict. But you and Robert are clearly mature enough to be sensible. You're both in your old bedroom."_

 _"But-" she stops; admitting that in eight months the most she and Robert had done was to kiss was not something she was comfortable telling her parents and it was a sore topic in her subconscious mind anyway. She couldn't help thinking Robert was bound to voice his preference for being a little more intimate at some point soon. Despite his claims that he would wait for her Cora was not one hundred percent sure how long that would hold up._

 _"I don't know why you're looking at me like that Cora dear. It was your father's idea." Her father winks at her to which she only shakes her head in exasperation before heading for the stairs._

 _They walk in a comfortable silence to her bedroom. She can't think of anything to say and Robert at least pretends that he is too busy looking at the architecture and the paintings to make conversation._

 _When they reach her room and she reaches for the door knob his hand blocks her path, grabbing her wrist._

 _"Cora, I'll sleep on the floor." She doesn't look at him, she can't. Her gaze stays trained on the piece of skin between the end of his sleeve and the curve of his thumb joint. "And we'll be careful at night and in the morning; I'll change in the bathroom or something." She only nods, it wasn't worth her thinking about how it would be if she didn't have a man such as Robert who was willing to put up with all her difficulties._

 _"I'm sorry. It's all ridiculous I know. What other woman would still be tagging along such an eligible man after eight months of she hadn't slept with him yet. In fact not even slept...it's not like we've done anything vaguely intimate." She drops her hand from Robert's as he shuts the bedroom door behind them. She finds herself looking at her heeled shoes set against the thick rug she'd fallen in love with at some store aged seven and her father had later purchased for her._

 _"Cora," his hand tugs hers away from her side and envelopes itself around hers, "I promised you would call the shots. I don't make promises I don't intend to keep and certainly not when your mental stability is at stake." She couldn't decide where her feelings of uncertainty had stemmed from. Was it being back in America, where such bad things had happened with Simon? Or was it just her mother that had put her on edge? It all felt so odd when a week ago she would say that she had been making excellent progress with keeping herself steady and her thoughts unclouded. "You're a beautiful woman Cora, I don't need to do anything intimate with you to know that. Any man that thinks he does, with any woman, is not a fair man." He kisses her forehead and she finds her lips spreading into a smile._

 _She lets him take her hip and pull her too him before his hand curls more deliberately over her bottom. She giggles softly when he pinches her there._

 _"See, beautiful." He ducks his head to kiss a pattern to her ear. Cora realises that maybe she had used the wrong word earlier. They had done intimate things, just none that involved the removal of their clothes or fitted the description many others would have of the word. And in none of this did she feel on edge or nervous—obviously it was her mother that had put her on edge._

 _His lips keep drifting along the side of her face until they finally leave the softest touch at the corner of her mouth. She presses her palms into his shirt, grabbing a handful of the fabric in her grasp, as she tilts her mouth into his._

 _She barely notices him pushing her deliberately into the wall, it wasn't something she was bothered about—they'd done it before._

 _She lets herself be kissed and her hip be massaged by his touch. She isn't even fazed when he murmurs indulgently into her mouth. It felt so right, to be held like this, and she wonders again why she was still hesitating._

" _See Cora. Completely beautiful." He kisses her nose as a warm blush dances across her cheeks._

 _"I want to take you for a walk before Mother corners us for the rest of the day. I want to show you something." She takes his hand and half drags him to the door as he teases about the fact he was quite content stood there kissing her._

 _She knew what she had in mind. It was a stupid place really, her brother had certainly laughed when he'd learnt that it was somewhere she frequented when she wanted time to herself. She'd never taken anyone there with her, not even a friend._

 _"It will seem ridiculous to you. But the place means a lot to me." They'd easily negotiated her mother at the front door, it seemed as long as Robert smiled and made some pretty remark about 'dying to see where your lovely daughter grew up' her mother had as much heart in her throat as Cora did. No doubt she was seeing grandchildren._

 _"I'm sure I won't think it silly." Cora only smiles secretly to herself and tugs him along. It wasn't as though it was far—the first shop on the left hand side of the street that ran perpendicular to the street her mother lived on—about a seven minute walk from the front door._

 _She pulls Robert into the door, which 'sings' with their arrival. It looked exactly the same as it had the last time she had visited just over a year previously. The dark walls still made the fancy dress costumes jump from their racks and the vast wall space behind the counter was still layered with stacks and stacks of hats. Some with feathers, others just plain berets. The most extraordinary were the ones that seemed to have the circumference of a flying saucer and could easily take out someone if the wearer moved too quickly. The middle table was still strewn with heels, jewels and streamers. Some of the shoes glittered while other just had a satin finish leaving the shining to the bracelets and necklaces that were strewn over them._

 _To the left of the counter was the most pleasing sight though, the photo booth still stood ready for anyone who had braced the changing room and wanted pictures of their choice. It was to its curtain that she drags Robert._

 _Before they are able to pass through it and enclose themselves inside the comfortable haven (there is a soft upholstered seat within—it was no passport photo booth) Mrs Patmore steps forward and embraces Cora in a hug, her British accent still rolling from her belly despite her having lived in America so long. Mrs Patmore was a more motherly figure to Cora than her mother had often been, comforting her in those hours she would sometimes spend in the fancy dress shop just trying to recover from whatever had happened at home._

 _"Miss Levinson! You are back. And this must be young Mr Crawley that I've heard about." She looks him up and down, her hands pressed to her rounded stomach. "He must be special for you to have brought him here Cora." She can't help but blush, her gaze averting downwards before she lifts it back up (what was there to be nervous about when Robert truly was important to her?)_

 _"Yes. Yes he is." She squeezes his hand and pills him to the curtain. "I hope you don't mind Mrs Patmore but I thought we might have some photos."_

 _"Call me Beryl please! And of course I don't. After all you have brought home a man whom is as British as I, which means all those hours you spent here rubbed off on you." Cora laughs sweetly but she can't help agreeing. It wasn't a coincidence that some of the happiest moments of childhood had been spent with a Brit and she had since chosen a Brit to be her boyfriend and more importantly to show him this place. Her sanctuary._

 _"I came here when I felt at my lowest. It was the last place I came before I got on that plane to England in January." She tucks herself into the corner of the seat. "I've never brought anyone here with me before." He drops his head, patting her knee. She can see where his teeth are curling over his lip. She shakes when he says nothing. She can feel the shiver of her leg beneath his grasp. Her lips begins to quiver. Maybe she had done it this time, maybe the pressure was getting a little too much for him._

 _It feels like an eternity before he finally lifts his gaze._

 _"Let's make the next memory you have from here a special one then. I think it's time we took some pictures!" He leans forward to press the start button and before Cora knows what's happening he's pulling her closer to him so they both fit in the frame (the image they make is put on a screen for them to see)._

 _The first is rather a dear photograph, them both smiling facing towards the camera. When it flashes up telling them they have ten seconds before the next shot (the pictures were printed in groups of four) Robert pinches her side and begins tickling her. The camera catches her with her eyes closed, facing Robert (who is grinning broadly) and her mouth wide with her laughter._

 _She's about to make a suggestion for the next photograph when she feels him leaning towards her, his arm firmly encircling her whole back. Her breath catches and is only regained when the flash of light tells them that a picture has been snapped. Maybe she shouldn't show her mother that one—foreheads pressed together and gazing lovingly was definitely going to make her scream grandchildren. Robert moves away from her as the timer flicks down the next ten seconds. Cora doesn't say anything she was too busy soaking up the charged atmosphere in the small space around them. Too busy trying to understand what she felt so annoyed that he hadn't kissed her._

 _He begins to fidget uncomfortably beside her as the screen flashes to 'three seconds' and before she knows what she is doing she impulsively leans forwards and kisses his cheek. Her eyes burst with the bright white light in the same second._

 _The pictures are dropping into the tray in front of them before either of them has a chance to say another word. Robert reaches forward and takes them. Cora frowns over how dreadful she looks mid laugh and he chuckles over how bemused he looks at her kissing his cheek. Cora can't help but argue against that statement, his eyes are shifted slightly towards her in the last shot, as if trying to see her face—it looked rather loving to her._

 _"Robert, I've had a thought about sleeping arrangements back at my parents."_

 _"Seriously Cora, I meant it when I said I would sleep on the floor."_

 _"I know. I just...that's so unfair. It's me that's dragged you here for this wedding and its be that's delaying things-" she flaps her arms around, she really didn't want Mrs Patmore overhearing anything she shouldn't- "I can't deprive you of a good night of sleep too. I thought, maybe, you could sleep on top of the covers and I could sleep below?" He takes her hand and soothes his fingers over her palm._

 _"You can change you're mind at any moment. But I'm not going to decline your heart felt offer." She smiles broadly, this was a start certainly. The start of her reaching what she ultimately wanted._

 _"Good. Now, let's take four more pictures in which at least one of them will be you kissing me this time!" He laughs and presses the button to start. Needless to say his lips are touching hers even before the first picture is taken._

"So let me get this straight Mama. Your mother embarrassed you the first time she met Dad and you panicked for some reason you won't say. You calmed down by going to this shop you had loved so much as a child and having pictures taken of you and Dad. Where are the other seven pictures I've never seen?" Cora swivels on the make up chair as the woman gives her the all clear. She wasn't about to tell her daughter's all of it. Oh no, she'd narrowed her stirring thoughts just to the bare details—the pictures had been taken in America on her and Robert's first meeting with her parents since she left America in a shop she loved. They didn't need to know the source of her discomfort.

"I'm not about to tell you that Sybil. They're private photographs."

"Private! Oh my my, I wouldn't pry Sybil, who knows what they got up to!" Mary raises her eyebrows and smirks.

"It was nothing like that Mary! The first was a plain shot. In the second we are laughing. I think the third one has us with our foreheads pressed together. Another has me kissing his cheek. Then there's this one," she holds up the picture, "which, I think, was the last one of me looking at your father-"

"With gooey eyes!" Sybil chirps from across the salon. Cora feels her cheeks warm.

"And the three in the middle?" Edith enquires more gently than her other daughters. It doesn't persuade her to tell them though. She wasn't about to let on to her daughter's that the middle three had been her and Robert kissing. It had been strange at the time to see an image of them kissing.

"They were nothing important. A few more of us laughing I think." She knows none of them believe her but she certainly wasn't about to tell them that in at least one of the pictures you can't see Robert's face because her arms are wrapped so firmly around his neck. The truth was they'd got rather carried away until Robert had forced them apart.

She busies herself playing with Edward, who finds no end of fun in pushing his train between the bottles of various hair products lining the counter.

When they get called through to the photo room about five minutes later she's more than surprised to find Matthew and Robert stood in suits. Edith laughs at her and Mary's exclamations.

"How was I supposed to have an accurate presentation of the bridal party if there were no men! I do have a father and brother-in-law!"

Positions are changed and clothes are adjusted; hair is tweaked and make-up reapplied between every single shot. People are moved and taken away to create smaller groupings. Cora can't quite believe this was only the first set of clothes—it was all going to have to be done again any minute. On top of that, from what Edith was saying Marigold was joining them in the afternoon, following her one morning a week at nursery, and Cora can't help dreading when she and Edward get together since they rather sparked each other and no doubt all hell will break loose.

"I don't s'pose these pictures are as fun as those one's you had done in a photo booth Pa?" Sybil giggles from behind her hands as Mary sings the statement into the air, her necklace being swung between her hands as she watches from behind the camera (they were currently on a shot that the photographer was calling the 'more mature items of clothing' which just involved her and Robert).

His hands tense on the back of her dress and she can see from the corner of her eyes that his neck is burning red.

"I mean, these are so formal and the others were so...informal." Robert seems to ignore Mary and instead leans closer to her, which prompts the photographer to tell them to 'hold it still.'

"What has she seen?" His words are velvety by her ear.

They have a moments rest bite as the photographer brings Edward into the picture and spends some time trying to persuade him to cling to Robert's leg. Edward seems to be adamant he would rather be on his dad's shoulders.

"She hasn't seen anything. They asked about the one I keep in my purse and I told them about the shop. That's all. They don't know about the more risqué pictures."

"Good. Because those are for our eyes only." He kisses the spot on the top of her ear that he had been whispering against.

"You make them sound far more intimate than they are. It's just kisses."

"Still, I'm not sure I'd want to scare my own children." She chuckles. He had to agree, the thought of any of her children coming across the photographs of her and Robert made her squirm uneasily. Somehow because it was from before they were born (after all they had seen their parents kiss) and the kisses has been rather over the top she felt it would stain the relationship she had with her girls. What would they think of their parents! And at the end of the day it had been a milestone in her and Robert's relationship. She's shown him a place that before that day had been solely hers. Later that day she had allowed him to sleep beside her albeit on different sides of the covers. Those were their moments and Cora wanted to keep them that way.

The side door to the open world opens and Marigold comes rushing in, Lavinia close behind her. The sudden gust of wind takes Cora by surprise, her dress flies up and her thoughts are transported to a similar occasion in a split second.

* * *

 _She feels the tickling on her ankles first. It slides around them and between them producing the same sensation that she got when she puts her tights on. The difference is this one is accompanied by a humid heat that immediately makes her skin prickle with sweat. That's the least of her problems though as the breeze surges as she pushes her foot out onto the plane's steps and the tickling at her ankles turns into a gust that lifts her skirt._

 _She pushes it down and tentatively reaches for the steps as she holds it flat. She hears his chuckles just behind her dying on his lips when she doesn't laugh with him. She pushes the lung full of air out between her lips, anything to try and breath evenly and keep the tears away—he'd brought her on holiday and still she couldn't seem to so much as smile at him. What was the matter with her? It wasn't even his fault what had happened with Robin and yet she seemed unable to let him help her lift her thoughts above it all._

 _Her thoughts are swirling too much for her to focus on her surroundings. She trips on the last step and for a second the pavement looms into view. But his hand pulls hers wrist roughly, his hand luggage dropped to the ground as he takes her waist to pull her upright._

 _"Thank you." Her words come out as a whisper but she knows he hears them by the slight upturn of his lips. Yes, he was surprised that she had spoken directly to him. She takes her hand from his grasp, rubbing the sweaty palms on her skirt, his smile immediately droops and he diligently picks up the luggage as a man behind them pushes passed._

 _"You weren't hurt?"_

 _"No." She quickens her step so she's in front of him. She couldn't look into his face and see the honesty and love behind his concern, that would break her. She'd be falling into his arms and begging for his love when all she really wanted was for him to forgive her._

 _He seemed convinced none of it was her fault. Every time she tried to make him forgive her he refused explaining that he couldn't forgive her for doing nothing wrong. She knew most people would say that should be a reason for her to love him even more, that he was so sweet and understanding but in truth Cora wanted to be blamed. She wanted someone to give her a reason why she had lost Robin._

 _Robert keeps telling her that all he wanted was her to come back to him. She knew that was what this holiday was about. He was trying to drag her thousands of miles away from the memories in the hope she could focus on pleasanter things. Things that aren't tainted by Robin. What he was clearly overlooking was that her memories didn't live in their house or their bedroom, they lived in her mind and would therefore follow her everywhere._

 _He will want to take her to dinners and spoil her in shops but she couldn't see that any of it would help. He kept saying she needed to forgive herself and maybe he was right—everything everyone was saying suggested she hadn't done anything wrong and that she was punishing herself for nothing—but somehow she couldn't seem to do that. Surely by letting herself be forgiven, to stop telling herself off for losing Robin she would forget him. She couldn't do that._

 _"Cora. The taxi is waiting." When had she passed passport control? And collected the luggage? In amongst her thoughts obviously. She climbs into the taxi, and he slips in beside her._

 _"Where are we going?" She ought to show some interest, after all he was trying his hardest and she did love him. Very much. Or at least, there had been a time when she looked upon him and felt all kind of fuzzy feelings. Those feelings were masked now with ones of her feeling like a burden to him and thinking that she had failed him._

 _"We're cruising. It's been so long since we did it last." They had cruised since their honeymoon but Cora knew if that was the occasion that spring to her mind Robert's was there, or at least had been when he'd booked. That immediately makes her skin prickle. She felt tense at the reminder the their honeymoon that had started completely differently to this holiday. For a start they had been talking and well, they'd had a week in a cottage in Yorkshire for which the majority had been spent kindling fires of passion in each other. Something that had not altogether subsided once they'd got abroad. This time...this time they hadn't slept together properly since before Robin's 'birth'—Cora didn't count that rather reckless decision of hers that had resulted in the desk fiasco._

 _"What places are we visiting?"_

 _"Venice. Dubrovnik. Santorini and a couple of other Greek islands." Her breath hitches at Venice. That had been on their honeymoon itinerary—Robert had treated her to a divine lunch out and a gondola trip on their own. They'd been gripped in the throes of young love._

 _"That will be nice." She can't think of anything else to say and leans back into the seat, watching as the countryside and town of Corfu race along beside her._

 _The ship looms into view. It's pristine white exterior and the sky blue chimney. There's a string of lights from the back of the ship to the funnel and they catch the light as they swing this way and that. She finds herself leaning forward to get a better view out the windscreen._

 _Stepping out onto the pier a few minutes later, porters rushing forward to take her luggage she lets a smile brush across her lips. Yes, she enjoyed the sun and she enjoyed foreign cultures. And the openness of the sea was never ending. Surely riding atop its depths she would feel all powerful and on top of the world (it's what it had felt like before) and maybe that would help with her grief. Somehow on the sea you were closer to heaven too. When you looked into the distance all you can ever see is ocean until it reaches the horizon and there was the sky, and heaven. Robin._

 _Their cases are by their cabin door by the time they get there. Robert pulls them diligently inside while she inspects the room. It had furnishings mainly in white but with the shade of marmalade being used for the cushions and blankets. The chair was upholstered in the same colour. Cora couldn't help feeling as though Robert had picked the room deliberately, hoping the colour would brighten her mood. He hadn't of course, you couldn't do that kind of thing but her mind was too suspicious and scared about this week to not help feeling surrounded at every level._

 _She turns around to Robert already diving in and out of drawers and cases. Handing things up ad folding other things away._

 _"I thought I'd get these unpacked and then we can go and explore the ship." She nods before making her way towards the bathroom. She doesn't get very far because his hand graces the flesh of her arm swivelling her slowly back to face him. "Cora-"_

 _"Robert don't lecture me please."_

 _"I wasn't going to. You will let me treat you though?"_

 _"Of course. In return I'll try and be good company."_

 _"That's all I want Cora. My wife to talk and laugh with." He leans towards her with the clear intention of kissing her but she shifts her face slightly, his lips grazing her cheek instead. If he's annoyed or upset he doesn't comment, just lets her turn back around and head for the bathroom._

 _She starts on her hair first, pulling down the tight ponytail and swishing it over her shoulders. Robert had already laid her brush on the side so she takes it and pulls at the knots gathering at the ends._

 _Her make-up is up for some improvement next so she quickly swipes the mascara brush across her lashes (there was no point in reapplying lipstick before they eat). Her eyes brighten after just one gentle flick so she puts the brush away, make-up wasn't her thing anyway. Besides when you became a mother it was suddenly all less significant anyway. Either way Robert always seemed to profess her beautiful, make up or not. Not that she felt that way at the moment, the make-up was even a comfort to her, covering the dark circles under her eyes from where she woke every hour despite having cried herself to sleep. At first crying had worn her out enough for a peaceful night but those times seemed to have passed._

 _Her teeth feel grotty and she reaches for her bathroom bag only to find that the only one beside her is Robert's. She doesn't even contemplate going to find her own, Robert had a toothbrush and paste she can use that._

 _She pulls the zip apart only for her eyes to fall on not his toothbrush or even his flannel or soap as expected. Oh no, her fingers curl around an item Robert had never, at least during their relationship used. A packet of durex._

 _Her fingers faulted and the packet falls straight back into the bag. Her legs give way and she finds herself placing her hands behind her to support her fall onto the toilet seat._

 _Pressure builds behind her eyes and in her throat. A sob tries to gurgle its way into her mouth but she clamps her hand over it. Her eyes shred the smallest of tears before she reaches determinedly for the packet she had dropped, a thumping behind her ears pushing her out into the room again._

 _"What are these?" He's stretched out on the bed, the brochure about the shore excursions in hand. He sits up at her appearance before his face flushes a beetroot red._

 _"You know what they are."_

 _"Don't get clever with me Robert Crawley. Why have a packet of condoms appeared in your wash bag when we have never used the things in the entirety of our relationship?!" Her legs shake from the knee to the ankle. Her arm shudders violently at the force she is using to push her fingers into the cardboard packaging. Her lips are pulled together in a prim line but all her focus is on keeping the tears right behind her eyes. He mustn't see her cry._

 _"Cora, don't shout."_

 _"Don't shout! Robert please, just answer the question."_

 _"I thought...I...didn't know if you'd had your thing refitted and I thought if we did...well you might be more comfortable if-"_

 _His hand drags through his hair and the other fiddles with the catalogue. Usually those habits that marked him out as being nervous would make her take less of a harsh stance on him. But not this time. Oh no, because this time his nerves meant that her thoughts had been right. His uneasiness was telling her the truth: he didn't have a honest and true reason for buying and packing such an item. He was trying to corner her. Two could play that game._

 _"At least you're not going to try and carry on with some other woman!"_

 _"Don't be ridiculous Cora. Who do you think I am? As if I'd bring my wife on holiday and go off with somebody else." And he had fallen right for it, of course, he always did._

 _"You're right of course. You're not that stupid. But you are stupid enough to think I wouldn't see right through this. You think you can try and coax me back into your arms by telling me it won't be like the last time we made love. Because you'll wear one of these and it'll feel different than the times we've been together before. And it won't make me think of Robin because there won't be a chance of falling pregnant? Honestly Robert. I honestly believed you earlier when you stood there and said all you wanted was your wife back. The woman you like to talk and laugh with. But it's not just that is it!? Because you're selfish and you want that part of me back too! You want the sweat and the sex and you will try anything to get it. Even a fancy holiday!" She tries to laugh at the end, to condemn him but all that comes out is a painful sob that penetrates into the air as a 'yelp'. She throws the box onto the bed beside him and strides away. She needed some air._

 _"Cora wait!"_

 _"No why should I when you seem so unwilling to wait for me in anything. You can't even wait for me to recover from losing a child before you're trying to push me into your arms again." She pulls the cabin door open and is relieved to find the air on the other side is less suffocating. It's not hot and sticky and filled with the slow burning tension. It's cold and fresh._

* * *

* we all know there is much debate in the show about whether Robert is the seventh or fifth earl. I've made him the seventh here as that is the one I usually choose, therefore the previous earl who had married and American (our canon, but not Cobert obviously) are the fifth assuming, like in canon the title skips to a grandchild.


	35. Chapter 35

AN: A couple of notes here. Firstly, loads of hugs for all the reviews. I am hoping updates will be more frequent again, I am getting used to my new regime, but I still don't think I can promise anything. Secondly, I know a lot of you are in the States and I believe The Durrells is coming to PBS for you guys. I highly recommend watching it, Keeley Hawes' acting is spot on and the children do an amazing job of acting to her standard considering their ages. The storyline is dramatic but hilarious, one of the best things I have watched in the last twelve months.

Hope you enjoy this.

* * *

 _Robert couldn't believe it had got to this. Although thinking back over the last forty-eight hours he did clearly see where his present state of complete disorientation came from. It had been going as well as good be expected right up until she'd found that packet of condoms. The stupid thing was Robert had dawdled in the Pharmacy and even debated for a good five minutes whether he should pack the things once they were in his possession. That indecision should have told him they were going to be trouble. Either way the result was what is was. Cora had not spoken to him for anything more than the basic questions since that moment when she'd stormed out._

 _Two days and two even worse evenings had passed since then. They had spent their day at sea, yesterday, not talking to one another. She'd even moved lounger when he'd sat down next to her on the deck._

 _Today hadn't been any better. They'd walked around the island of Santorini hardly looking at each other, let alone holding hands or laughing over silly souvenirs. It was becoming clear he'd underestimated his task by miles. He'd hoped it would be as easy as taking her away from her day to day life and flooding her senses with so much other stuff that she wouldn't have time to process thoughts about Robin. It was clear her heartache ran deeper than he'd thought. Cora was in need of nothing but love and for him to cherish her as much as he could manage. She didn't really want to do anything that would make her forget, Robert was beginning to see that. So, maybe the best way, was to show her that she could still remember at the same time as living the life she had always lived with him and the girls._

 _He was determined that he wasn't going to lose her over this._

 _"Cora-" he ambles gently into the bedroom from where he'd been changing (and plucking up courage) in the ensuite- "you thinking of going to the buffet or eating a posh dinner in the restaurant?"_

 _"I don't think I'm hungry." She's sat on the bed, her legs crossed and her fingers playing with a hair band she has resting on her knees._

 _"Well, I'm going to propose that I take you to dinner. They had roast dinner on the menu which we all know is your favourite." He kneels on the bed beside her, folding his legs beneath him._

 _"Do you think the girls are alright?"_

 _"I'm sure Rosamund would have called if there was a problem." This was always the tactic of a confused or distraught Cora—to try and change the subject to another topic that was still important and that he couldn't ignore._

 _"I think I've been neglecting them." She falls against his shoulder, her finger lightly tracing his shirt sleeve. He smiles against the top of her head, she was touching him which was a certain improvement. "That's what I've been thinking the last two days. I've become a rubbish mum. I've been a pretty bad wife but the girls...I should have been treating them better."_

 _"They understand."_

 _"Maybe but that shouldn't make a difference. I'm their mum." He pulls her closer against his shoulder and he's more than marginally satisfied when she seems comfortable enough to stay put._

 _"I've done some thinking too, while we haven't really been talking, and I think I have an apology to make." She swivels to face him, her blue eyes glancing up at him as she tries to stay close to him. "I shouldn't have packed those condoms. It was immature of me to not be able to assess your feelings better." He can't help but smile like an idiot when she laughs._

 _"The funny thing is. I've been preparing myself to tell you that I think I acted rather melodramatically when I found them. Most men wouldn't have waited like you have. They would have got angry with me by now. And no man would have worried enough to pack condoms. You're a saint Robert, always have been, particularly about this topic and it's time I started remembering that." He just stares, where had this woman come from? An hour earlier she had been sulking and quiet, now she seemed thoughtful and perhaps even content._

 _"So, you'll come to dinner?"_

 _"I'll do one better...I'll come as your wife." A puff of air escapes between his teeth like a pant. Maybe this holiday was taking an upward turn which was a surprise, he had been completely sure it was going to go down in the books as their worst holiday ever. "You needn't look quite so shocked Robert!"_

 _"I just don't know what to say, that's all." She stands with a grin on her face that Robert would have called cheeky in the first years of their relationship and marriage. He would have said that was the look she gave most often before she lent over him and demanded a kiss. That isn't want she does now though, she saunters the bathroom and he hears the decisive sound of shower a second later, but it pleases him greatly that she still has that look hidden away._

 _He lays himself flat on the bed, Cora would be a while changing so he had plenty of time before he needed to bother too much. Instead, he could focus on booking all his surprises for Venice._

 _They were arriving in the city in two days and Robert was determined that he was going to spoil her. He didn't want to do exactly what he had done the last time they were in the city (gondola and a cafe lunch). He wanted to be more extravagant if anything. Rather than a cafe for lunch he thought he'd surprise Cora with a really elaborate lunch in a grand hotel that overlooked the canals. He'd also booked a tour of one of the less well known churches some distance from Saint Marks square that had a large array of architecture and pretty stain glass windows. It wasn't really his thing but Cora absolutely adored art in any form and he did rather like the way she twisted her neck about to see all the stain glass and the heights of the impressive structures._

 _He stops daydreaming about Cora walking in churches long enough to dial Elsie's number. She picks up after one ring (she was even more efficient than Cora had been in her role as secretary and that was saying a lot)._

 _"What can I do for you Sir?"_

 _"Have you booked those tickets I asked for?"_

 _"The ones for the church are in your inbox, I checked myself. The hotel reservation is organised. They are even going to screen off the section of the balcony for you._ _I'm having a little trouble with the gondola. I'm trying to find a local group in the area of the lunch you've booked so that you can arrive in the gondola, but all the gondoliers are freelance so it gets quite tricky."_

 _"I'm sure I can just get one when we arrive. It's not like there's any shortage." She clicks her tongue down the phone._

 _"Don't you know me at all Sir? I'm determined to get this exactly right for you." He can't help but role his eyes. When Cora had said that as his secretary they would have laughed at each down the phone and then he would have reminded her that she needed to do nothing more than she was already doing. With Elsie, Robert had to hold his tongue. When she was determined, it wasn't a determination like Cora's had been which was more about making each other laugh and falling into bed, oh no...Elsie was a perfectionist. If she didn't sort this gondola thing she would probably hand in her notice. "Mrs Crawley needs this. I've seen her Sir and she needs a good celebration." He gulps as Elsie's soft Scottish brogue brings him back to the point. Yes, he did need this to work._

 _Elsie had done well putting up with his rants in the office, and even his tears. She'd covered his slack without being asked. She was a woman he was becoming ever more pleased to call his friend. And now she was behind him on this holiday scenario completely. When he'd called the office yesterday and asked how things were going and he'd ended up telling her about how dreadfully his holiday was going so far she'd hammered into him the reasons for the trip. She'd kept him grounded when he'd felt it all slipping. She'd been the one to persuade him to pluck up the courage and ask Cora to dinner tonight, whatever happened._

 _"Thank you for your support yesterday Elsie and all your help with Venice."_

 _"It's nothing if it works. I can tell from your voice that she has agreed to dinner. I think I better ring off so you can get ready. We can't have you not being completely ready to impress." He raises his eyebrows and then remembers she can't see that, so is about to say something more when he realises she has hung up on him._

 _It doesn't bother him though as the moment he drops the phone to the bed Cora steps out of the bathroom her hair dropping wet and a towel hardly wrapped across her body. She smiles from above the towel she rubs over her face._

 _"I'm going to repeat what I said earlier Robert...you needn't look quite so shocked." He averts his gaze, she was right of course, they were married and had been for some time. But that wasn't really what shocked him. Cora hadn't stepped in front of him, out of a shower or bath, looking so bare for months._

 _Since before they had lost Robin._

 _Sure they'd slept in the same bed but she'd taken to wearing what they had nicknamed her 'mumsy' pyjamas; he'd not seen an exposed piece of as much as her leg since she'd miscarried (that was of course excluding the stupid thing that had happened in his office that day)._

 _"Cora, you don't have to force yourself to do things like this if you're still uncomfortable. Please don't let any subconscious worries about the things I would like to happen change what you are comfortable with." She huffs as she pulls the drawer open to find some undergarments._

 _"Robert. I've told you, the last few days have given me time to properly think about things. I don't want to live in the haze I've been living in but I can't completely let go of Robin either." She slips her pants on beneath her towel and heads for her wardrobe. "I want us to be back to the way we were. Date nights. Movie nights. Meeting for lunch. I want to laugh with you again. I want the best friendship I've ever had back." He feels the tears prickling at the backs of his eyes. He loses the rest of her words as they get muffled by her rustling and because his brain stops processing them. Nothing matters apart from what she had just said, she did still want him in her life. He hadn't realised how much the subconscious fear that she didn't had been playing on his mind. "Oh my goodness Robert! What did I say?" She's crawling onto the bed in front of him, and through his blurred vision he can just about make out that her towels have been abandoned. A flash of red reveals her bra and pants._

 _"Nothing. Nothing. They're happy tears. I hadn't realised how worried I was that you didn't even like me anymore." Her eyebrows scrunch together and her hand caresses easily down his cheek. Her fingers are soft and gentle and smooth from the fact she's just washed._

 _"I love you Robert." He holds her hand to his cheek as he holds her gaze. "And it makes me feel so very guilty about how badly I have treated you these last few months to the point where you have anticipated me casting you off entirely." She sighs softly as she slumps onto the bedding beside him. He wipes the last wetness from around his eyes and sees her properly. The little raised goose bumps on her skin where she was getting cold. He would reach out and rub her skin usually but he didn't feel as though that would be completely appropriate given recent circumstances—not when she was lying on the bed with only her underwear on. Instead he_ _stands from the bed and grabs his dressing gown off the back of the ensuite door._

 _"Put this around you. You're cold." He passes it to her but she tosses it away patting the bed beside her._

 _"Will you not hold me? It warms me up better." He gulps as he thinks, his teeth chewing at his bottom lip. He would very much like to hold her but that would maybe not be the most comfortable experience for him. He scratches his head as she raises her eyebrows and chews her own lip. She seems to think of something and pulls the dressing gown her way and slips into it. "Will you hold me now, would this be a little easier. I appreciate I'm asking something that may cause you some discomfort."_

 _"I...I'm sorry. I wish above anything that I could hold you without wanting to make love to you but-" He steps further away as her teeth pull more of her lip between them while she stares at where her fingers trace over the bow of the dressing gown. What seems like an age later she looks up at him._

 _"I'll make a deal. Hold me for a while. I want to talk with you and whisper together like we used to. In return I have no aversion to touching-"_

 _"I won't hear of it Cora! No way is my hugging you a fair exchange for you agreeing to that, not when only yesterday we were not speaking to each other. I will have no repeat of that day at my office. I refuse to be led." She quirks her eyebrows as he falls into the armchair and shuts his eyes against the headache he felt coming on._

 _"Robert," he opens his eyes to find her out of the bed and instead sat cross legged atop the covers. "At least sit with me here." He moves as she requests and sits opposite her. What he doesn't expect is for her to immediately lift herself onto her knees and pressing her hands to his shoulders lean forward to kiss him._

 _He grabs her waist to stop her collapsing against him. His hand missing the vast expanse of dressing gown and settling straight on her skin. She flinches but Robert can tell it's not because she doesn't want it but because she is cold; he feels the goose flesh erupt from the place he touches her. His lips can't refuse hers, they push and suck until he gives way to them. Her tongue demands the same access a second later and he lets it._

 _The feel of her kisses is enough to make him murmur her name softly as she pauses for breath. She murmurs something in reply but he doesn't make it out before her lips are peppering sweet kisses along his jaw._

 _When she tugs them backwards no more than a minute later he pries his hand from her skin and his mouth from hers. He's left leaning over her, his hands either side of her slender frame. This was far too much of a slippery slope, however much his knotted insides were telling_ _him to forget that._

 _He looks down expecting her to grab him and try and press her mouth back to his but her eyes are somber and reflective. He knows time must pass with them just looking at each other because her chest goes from rising and falling rapidly to hardly moving at all._

 _"By the end of the week Robert. I promise to have slept with you."_

 _"Cora. We've discussed this. Not until you're ready." She secures her arms around his neck and lifts herself to kiss him._

 _"I will be. Now, lie with me for a while?" He wraps his arms around her middle and buries his nose by her strawberry scented wet hair. He finds the tingling he thought he'd feel at having her so close is far surpassed by feelings of contentment and complete happiness. He doesn't even think about anything aside from wanting to make sure she warms up._

 _She twists her head so she can see his face out the corner of her eyes. All he can focus on admiring is the large grin that is plastered across her face. How he had missed that look._

 _"Either you no longer find me in my underwear arousing or you have far more self control than either of us thought." She quirks her eyebrows._

 _"The latter Cora. Definitely the latter." He presses a soft kiss behind her ear as she shuffles more comfortably into his embrace. He lets his eyelids drift shut against her hair, his lashes brushing the wet strands._

 _When he opens his eyes again the light that had been coming in through the window is gone and the scene of the port has been replaced with the sparkling sea throwing facets of the little light left through the window. He's surprised to find that Cora is fast asleep beside him; she was never one for sleeping in the middle of the day. She always said that sleeping in the day was a bad habit and one she had always made him be firm with her about it. She'd only ever let herself off that self punishment when she'd been at advanced stages in her pregnancies._

 _He would therefore usually wake her from her slumber but with little thought he decides not, it wasn't as though she'd been sleeping properly for months._

 _Her hair is damp against his chin and he dearly hopes it isn't giving her a chill. He can't help but smile about her possibly being able to sense his conscious state when her arms untangle from where they had been shuffled under the pillow and stretch in front of her._

 _"Sybil." Robert's brow furrows. Surely he hadn't heard her correctly, why was she murmuring a random name? "Don't you think that's a pretty name Robert?" Her eyes are suddenly wide and alive, looking at him full of expectation._

 _"Yes darling I'm sure. But you must have been dreaming."_

 _"Dreaming but-" her face darts around her and eventually falls on the window- "oh I've been asleep! Why did you not wake me Robert? We have dinner and-"_

 _"Don't worry. What I want to know is what you were dreaming about to wake muttering about Sybil being a pretty name." She furrows her brow in concentration, her thumb nail slipping between her teeth._

 _"I don't actually know. But it is a nice name." He smiles and kisses her forehead as she slides from the bed to get ready. She shakes her head and laughs. He chuckles with her. He never thought he'd hear her laugh again._

* * *

It was a strange memory. But then it had been an altogether unusual affair. The strangeness hadn't just been in Cora's sudden change of heart but in her speaking the name Sybil (this had been some five years before Sybil had come into being—the name stuck!) and Robert knew that was why the episode had popped into his head now.

Tom stood before him, in a suit, which completely confused Robert's brain. A seventeen year old in a suit seemed completely out of place. The first word that had crossed the boy's lips was his daughter's. The conversation had progressed somewhat since his opening remark about 'Sybil and I' and not in a direction Robert was at all comfortable with.

"I had assumed all this nonsense about marriage had been forgotten. Sybil originally said it in the context of a discussion we were having with her about mature choices. She seemed to think you didn't wish to push her into things she didn't want and that you were rather traditional in many of your ideals."

"If you're trying to politely note that I believe in chastity then yes you're correct." Robert raises his eyebrows, this young man certainly had a way of making him feel small.

"Explain to me then Tom, how I can be sure your wish to marry my daughter is sincere. You see," he stands to pace the room, to circle the chair on which Tom is sitting, "from where I stand it's equally likely that rather then being sincere you are in fact only deciding on this marriage lark so that you may sleep with her and then like all young men you will spy something that you think more appealing and wish to give it a try." He opens his mouth to retort but Robert firmly holds up his hand. "I wouldn't blame you. It's only natural. But you must see that I can not let my daughter be put in a situation like that when I have a chance to _stop it!_ " His hand slams down on the desk before him, the last words ricocheting around the room. Tom leans backwards in his seat as Robert leans over him, his teeth grit together with a kind of pride—he had finally scared the boy—as he sits back in his chair.

"I assume you won't give your consent then."

"Certainly not and honestly I don't think you would want me too. Marriage is hard when you have two steady incomes and have been dating the other person a considerable number of years. A marriage where neither of you are earning and Sybil is not even an adult is absurd. You both have a whole spectrum of life experiences to gain that may alter your lives completely."

"What if I was sure none of those things would be an issue? I want my experiences to be with Sybil, you must see that. Or is this about the fact you're determined to send her to university where she will meet some clever bloke who will write the chauffeurs' kid off the table?" Tom leans forward, his words being spat between a tight lipped scowl.

"Tom," he lowers his voice and softens his tone, "of course this isn't about that. Your father has always been a dear friend of mine and your grandfather was almost a father to me. As for intelligence you're a fine choice. My issue is with the time in your life for the decisions you are making and I'm talking about you here as well as Sybil. The year that has passed has changed nothing-"

"No it hasn't. I still love Sybil and I want to marry her." Robert sighs in an exasperated tone. He really was getting nowhere regarding getting Tom to lessen off on things. It shouldn't be this difficult to break through to the boy. '"In less than a year she will be eighteen and will not have to answer to your disapproval. Sybil will be free to make her own decisions." The boy's insolence was quickly getting on Robert's nerves, he was hardly showing himself to be a good match for his dearest girl.

It was true to say parents were not supposed to have a favourite child and certainly he loved all his children very much. But in Sybil Robert saw what he thought Cora might have been like as a girl. Excitable, intelligent and startlingly pretty. It was true he had met Cora at a time when she had been none of those things (except beautiful, of course) but the woman she was now was certainly a tamed down version of their youngest daughter. He couldn't bear for his girl to lose that spark because Robert had let a childhood romance get out of hand.

"Yes you're right. She will be of age to choose her own path in life. But I remind you Tom she will have no money! No job! And I know for a fact she wants a degree, that means debt in this day and age! How do you expect to support her without at least some assistance from me? I can't see you paying for her studies." Anger had certainly been building in Robert but he had to admit that he was seeing red now. Everything was shaking around him. He would not lose his daughter in this way. The red turns to shades of orange at the wide, startled expression plastered on Tom's face. He was surprised, shocked, Robert supposed that such a mature man could get so wound up. It lets him relax a little though, Tom was finally seeing sense.

"You're right." Robert leans back in his chair, orange fading to yellow as Tom says those words, finally. "But you don't know your daughter very well if you can not see that along with a degree she also wants to be with me. She agreed to elope with me a few weeks ago. The fact it didn't-"

"AM I HEARING YOU CORRECTLY? Elope!?" Red turns to crimson that shatters into an explosion. Spirally pieces of information explode into fragments of colour and others fuse together before they erupt. Robert concentrates hard but the image of Sybil running off to Gretna Green ricochets in his head. He wishes it would explode into flames like everything else in his head but it stays resolute and still. A centre piece mocking him.

"And here I was thinking that your wife had told you." Tom stands from the chair and walks towards the door, buttoning his suit back up. The door clips shut but all Robert hears is his own anger as it resonates in the room.

Cora.

Cora had known this. Cora had known that their daughter had taken a decision to run away with a man, no a boy, and she hadn't thought to tell him. He wasn't having that.

"Sir Mr-"

"Let me passed Phyllis. Whatever meeting it is shall have to wait! I have a personal matter to attend to." He looks at her expression, the way she is pressed against the doorframe to let him passed, he lowers his voice. "I trust I can leave you to sort everything. I will hopefully be back within the hour." He gives her the cheeriest smile he can manage before taking the stairs three at a time.

He couldn't control Tom that was becoming clear. But Cora! She had it coming she really did. For his daughter to have decided to run away and for her to keep it from him? They were going to have to lay down some firmer house rules. As for Cora! He was in a black rage at the mere thought of her. What was she thinking?

The tube comes without delay and he's barging his way through his own front door five minutes after he alights back onto ground level. His thoughts still swirl in the angry hazes of red and orange.

"Robert!" Her bright smile appears from the kitchen as she strides across he hall with a cake mix stuck to her fingers. "I would hug you but my fingers-"

"Why didn't you mention that our youngest daughter had tried to run away from home in the middle of the night? To get married no less?!" She shakes her head at him but it was not because she was denying his question. He knew full well it was the tone he was taking with her, the way he was stepping closer to her with his teeth clenched together. That was what made her look at him with suspicion. The problem was he couldn't stop, there was no way of rationalising his thoughts. He wanted an answer and he wasn't going to wait for it. "Why did you have any right to keep something like that from me? She is my daughter as well you know!" She shakes her head again.

"I'm not going to dignify any questions asked in that tone with an answer." She turns on her heels and heads back to the kitchen.

"So, what Tom has told me is true. Sybil did agree to elope with him and then you stopped her?"

"Until you stop being aggressive and bearing your gritted teeth at me I'm telling you nothing." She swivels back to the counter in the kitchen, attacking a wooden spoon and a bowl of cake mix.

"Stop acting like a petulant child and answer the questions Cora! We are talking about the future, nay, the entire life of our daughter and you think it necessary to avoid my questions because I don't speak to you in the right tone? I beg to remind you you've been keeping secrets. First you never told me about all that with Simon and now, now you're jeopardising Sybil's life!" He jerks the bowl roughly from her hands and pushes it to the other side of the table. "I think my tone is a very small issue compared to your current thoughts on our marriage. We have discussed this time and time again, keeping secrets is not a thing! Which is why I DEMAND AN ANSWER!" She lifts her eyes slowly to his, her eyebrows high and a small pout resting on her lips, one hand on her hip the other still resting on the granite surface. She nods slowly.

"You're right we agreed no secrets. But then I'm not the one of us that is stood here with a blemished record. I won't stand here and be yelled at in this manner by a man who, for whatever reason, allowed another woman into his private life! He's vowed since that he loves and respects me, neither of which I see with this episode." She jerks her eyebrows at him and marches passed, he flops onto the chair in the kitchen. His head falling into his hands. Cora had pulled out a low shot there but he couldn't blame her. The fog was lifting and he could see clearly that he'd treated her completely and utterly dreadfully. He stands to go and find her only to lift his face from his hands to find Edward stood in front of him.

"Mama tell me not to scream. Did she not tell you?" Robert leans forward to plant a kiss on his forehead.

"She is right. I'm just very upset about something. I've got to go back to work Edward but when you see Mama will you tell her that I love her very much." Edward's little brow crumples.

"But you yell? Yell is not love?"

"No it is not but sometimes it happens by accident." Edward seems to accept that and walks with him to the door before he disappears back to the lounge where there is the hushed sound of Cora's favourite music coming from the CD player. It was her way of calming herself down. Now, Robert knew, was not the time to try and comfort her.

* * *

She rolls over in bed only to find his chest is right behind her. A soft smile would usually grace her lips at the realisation. After all, they rarely slept facing each other—Robert always complained about how much she fidgeted. However, waking this morning to his body so close to hers only meant that the conversation she had put off last night (following their squabble about Sybil) was imminent. The problem was Cora felt completely guilty about the whole affair. Her lungs seemed to constrict at the mere thought of how she had insulted Robert about Jane. That had been beneath the belt and she knew it. Yet, here he was, lying in the centre of their bed, his hand resting in the vacant space between their two bodies and his chest predictably bare—he said he got over hot, but Cora thought it had more to do with the fact she had admitted she liked him sleeping like that.

His alarm would accost them any minute, the clock was reading two minutes to seven so she just pushes her head into the pillow and waits for him to wake. It was funny, he was the one who always had to get up but she was invariably awake before him. She'd never got out of the habit of working and if she was honest in the earlier years of their marriage they'd wake and start the morning with a pattern of kisses and love making. That didn't happen now, not often anyway, but since Robert had never changed his alarm for later it seemed he still liked to talk with her in the morning or simply just lie happily in each other's company before he got up.

The boring tones of the news report fill the room but it disappears with a quick shuffle by Robert. He lies on his back and rubs his eyes with a grumble. She says nothing, maybe she was wrong and his sleeping so close to her was not due to yesterday's fall out. But his hands drops second later, and he turns his head to look at her.

"Did Edward tell you what I hold him before I went back to work yesterday?"

"If you mean did he tell me that you love me. He did." She smooths her hand over the sheet between them. Tracing a finger over the creases. His hand follows a similar path and his nail finally touches hers, forcing her to look up at him.

"Good. Because, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that yesterday Cora. I hope you can forgive me?" She smiles softly.

"Our children will always govern our lives darling. And I can assure you I'm as terrified for Sybil as you are. But none of that excuses what I said either. You do know I forgave you long ago for all that with Jane?" He nods slowly before moving back towards her. He places one arm over her waist.

"Not that your forgiveness will ever excuse my behaviour." He kisses her head and they settle comfortably together. "As for Sybil maybe you ought to tell me what happened that night?"

She tells him, what else was she supposed to do? It is what she should have done in the first place. She explains how Sybil had thought it was the only way for her to get out of the relationship what she wanted, which was Cora notes, a more mature relationship (much to her worry). Robert nods in agreement. She explains how she had told Sybil to work along the line of compromise and try to persuade Tom around to her way of thinking and Robert again seems to agree with that.

"Quite right. This isn't the Edwardians. As long as Tom and Sybil are safe and sensible with their decisions I see it as a far better plan than marriage. Lets hope she can persuade him, I can't say I saw much sign of it yesterday."

"Was he that bad?"

"He was insolent. Completely convinced that the world bent around his choices. I can see that he's fiery and bright and that Sybil would find that attractive, but his attitude really irked me." Cora had never spoken to Tom directly without Sybil being about but she had gleaned enough from Sybil that night to think that Tom definitely had a short temper. That was worrying, what if he turned on Sybil?

"It might all sort itself. I don't think Sybil wants what Tom wants at the minute so it could very easily all blow up. In the meantime I'll tell Sybil what happened, or you can. I think she needs to make it clear to Tom what she wants." He laughs beside her and she lifts herself onto her elbows. "What's so funny?" He shakes his head and then in one fluid motion pushes the duvet back from his body and places his hands either side of her shoulders, his knees mirroring the position at her thighs. She parts her lips in a small 'o' as a whistle of air races between them. He leans over her, his nose pressing against hers and his warm breath trailing over her lips.

"You. I laughed because I'd forgotten how perfect you are at coming up with completely sensible ideas about big problems."

"Now you're the one being funny." She pushes her fingers gently through the hair on his chest—it wasn't as though she could resist when he was straddled so neatly over her. "I hardly think this observation of my intelligence deserves such a sudden decision to pin me to the bed." She tilts her lips up into his anyway and they kiss softly for a minute. "It does remind me of something I wanted to ask you though."

"Oh?"

"Well, my house is still empty after my tenant left and seeing as our yacht trip is not going to come about until the new year I thought we could spend a long weekend there; reviving old memories and just escaping the burdens of work and children for a couple of days."

"That would be very agreeable." He kisses her nose. "We will have to purchase Ben and Jerry's just to make it feel real." She laughs, that ice cream had been rather a feature of their relationship particularly in that house; it seemed absurd looking back on it.

"Um, although Baked Alaska is no longer. Did you know they scrapped it! No chocolate polar bears!"

"I did. But," his expression turns serious and he leans over her again, pressing his nose to her cheek, "there is present company that is far more tasty than ice cream." Cora feels her neck race with heat and her cheeks flush. It had been months, years probably, since Robert had ever said something quite so seductive. Seduction had never been his way, he liked to flirt and made pretty comments but he never said things that insinuated only one thing and left her in no doubt of his intentions. Her past had always put him off to begin with and then their age and being parents had got in the way of their relationship but it seemed it was on a resurgence since Edward had entered the world and this was just another example.

"Robert-" his lips brush over hers and cut her off. She doesn't have the energy to push him off of her and in fact, his kisses had always been rather diverting. She keeps her fingers exploring his chest and easily matches his fervour with her own. It's when his hand caresses the inside of her thigh that she has to pull her mouth from his, her phone singing on the bedside table.

"Leave it Cora." His lips punctuate their meaning against her own but she pulls away from the tempting confines of his stubble.

"I never get calls at this hour. It must be important." He sighs in exasperation as she twists beneath him to reach for her mobile. He falls back onto his side of the bed. The dial reads _Ethel_ and she slips out of the bed immediately.

Was this the call she had been waiting for? Was this the call that confirmed Sophie's thoughts on the young woman's pregnancy?

"Ethel, hello. Is there a problem?" Silence. "I hope Barrow is looking after you? The Countess will want to know. Charlie hasn't attacked you?"

"No, no. Barrow is well up to the mark. The problem is..." suddenly all Cora can hear is sobs. They echo down the phone along with sniffles. "It was all too late..." more crying and deep breathing, "I'm pregnant Cora and I don't know what to do."

So there it was. Cora lowers herself into a chair. She hears Robert huffing behind her but she can't focus on him. None of this was about him, or even her. This was about Ethel.

"Ethel, I don't want to sound irritating or cliche but I really can't tell you what to do. The baby is yours and-"

"I can't have it Cora. Even the slightest part of the baby looking like him would make me want to hurt it and that's not right." Cora feels her throat contort. This wasn't really a conversation she should have started because she could never agree with what was likely to happen to Ethel's child. The baby had done nothing wrong, why should it be wiped from the world before it had entered it? Since she and Robert had lost Robin those beliefs had become even more ingrained within her. There were exceptions; health of the baby and mother and certainly rape. Ethel certainly had grounding on that last one but was it enough for a life?

"Ethel, I think you should speak with your doctor. This really isn't-"

"You don't agree do you?"

Silence. Cora hears her own breathing echoing down the phone.

"As I said Ethel. This is you not me."

"But you think the baby should be allowed a chance at living." Cora finds herself clicking her thumb nail against the long nail on her middle finger.

"I do really. Yes."

"But you must see that I can't mother that child Cora. He abused me and hurt me. He would have raped me. You said you'd had this experience as a young woman. That was why you were running this charity. Would you have considered bringing the offspring of that man into the world?" Simon's visage comes into her minds eye. She sees his slippery expression and the smirking crinkle that his eyes always seemed to hold.

"It depends what contribution you are saying I would have given. I would have given the child life Ethel. Perhaps I would never have known it beyond its first few hours but I would have allowed the child a life with another family, another couple. But I am not you." Cora finds it all rather nerve wracking. This wasn't even about her but her palms are wet and she rubs them agitatedly on her leg. It doesn't help that she can hear Robert's footsteps approaching behind her. No doubt he had noticed her discomfort and was going to sit opposite her with a serious expression on his face, which was the equivalent of him mumbling 'it's alright I'm here darling,' and his hand rubbing over hers.

"Adoption?" She hears the quiver in Ethel's voice just as Robert's hand makes contact with her knee, his body slumping into the chair.

"I've said too much Ethel. It's not my place to influence what-"

"No. I called you because I wanted some advice. You have given it. Besides, I tend to agree, I don't have much right to destroy the child's life. In fact as its mother I have a responsibility to protect it. Thank you Cora. I think I see things better now." Just like that the phone goes dead. The tears from the other end are gone, in fact Ethel sounded as content as ever. All Cora finds when she drops her hand from her ear though is an unsettling feeling of being irresponsible and forceful. Her throat closes over again and her eyes shit as she concentrates on keeping them from bulging with tears. The charity wasn't about force it was about guidance and assistance. How far from that had she just faltered in her conversation with Ethel? She'd forced her views on another and that shouldn't be. Her mind argues that it was done to save an innocent life and that Ethel had called to seek her assistance.

"Cora, darling, can I help? You seem suddenly very distraught." His hand rubs over her knee and his wide blue eyes seem to sink right down into his soul. She smiles weakly.

"Not directly. I think I need to speak to Phyllis and Sophie. It's a charity issue. But what you can do is come back to bed with me and hold me tightly." He smirks a half smile, the corners of his mouth only just tilting up at the corners and his eyebrows mirroring the look. It wasn't like the looks of not ten minutes before when he'd been seemingly intent on seducing her. No, this was a look of understanding and friendship. His fingers don't grab her hand as they walk to the bed, they simply dance on the palm of her hand that she lets dangle by her leg behind her, facing towards him.

She slips into the bed and he slides in right behind her. Her eyes fall heavy and the long time it had taken for her to get to sleep the night before comes back to mind. On top of that her mind was still bursting with the dilemma of Ethel and how she was going to sort that.

"Don't worry about it now Cora. Just sleep." She didn't think she'd been talking out loud, and Robert couldn't even see her face but he knew. He always knew.

"I don't want to let anyone down. And I must remember to speak to Sybil about this Tom business."

"Cora. Ssh. And I'm going to speak to Sybil I think. Now," he kisses just behind her ear, "rest." She lets her eyes close properly this time and pushes herself further into his warm embrace.


	36. Chapter 36

AN: Right so, I was a bit off with the two week update I promised to some of you, sorry! But this chapter got out of hand (or the last section did anyway). This chapter is the last of the jolly ones for a few I am afraid so it contains some fluff and (completely unplanned) smut in the third section so if you don't like that the second half of the flashback is to be avoided. It wasn't planned, I really wanted to leave their reunion over Robin to your imaginations but that went out the window! I hope you enjoy and the next, very dramatic update, will be with you as soon as it is done.

I would like to give a heads up to zaibi12 who really motivated me yesterday. Enjoy, and please review!

* * *

Robert isn't surprised to open his eyes to an empty bed. Oh no, he could never be surprised at that when his nostrils are already being flooded with the smell of a roasting chicken. He had forgotten what it felt like to wake to those smells. In Grantham house the kitchen was so far from the bedrooms that no cooking smell ever reached them but here in Cora's house (he wouldn't call it her old house, she did still own it), with the kitchen right below the master bedroom the smell was more heavenly than the warm feel of the sheets wrapped around him.

He slips from between them, goosebumps immediately erupting right across his skin—the heating was currently off in the house to save Cora the bills when nobody was living as tenant to pay them for her.

He finds his pyjama bottoms and eagerly puts them on, he'd shower later, after roast (which he assumed was for lunch). For now his dressing gown will do.

He pads down the stairs determined to be as quiet as possible. It would be worth being able to surprise her.

He pauses at the door. The radio is on in the kitchen and she faces the stove. What captures his attention is the gentle swing of her hips from side to side as she sings along to the tune. Her arms reach into the air, her fingers splaying into jazz hands. He has to bite his tongue so not to laugh, not because she looks silly but because it was out of character for her—she didn't dance along to the radio, she rarely sang.

What makes him smile the widest though is what she is wearing. His shirt. The sleeves are rolled up and the hem easily falls to cover her bottom, stopping at her upper thigh. It reminded him of the morning after he'd first slept with her. That morning she had walked into this kitchen (when he was cooking) in his crumbled shirt. That was about thirty years ago and yes, she was a little rounder around the middle and there was maybe a line or two around her face. Her hips were less dainty and her hands more chapped but Robert didn't care, he didn't really notice (goodness, compared to him she looked like a goddess, not that that was new). All he saw was his Cora. Happy and beautiful, same as she had been all those years before.

The drums come into their own and Robert walks up behind her as she mimes the actions on the hobs, her feet twitching to one side or the other which each beat.

Her little squeal mixed with her suddenly rigid body which is immediately followed by her breaking down into a pile of laughter as he encircles her waist makes him laugh too.

"My dancing queen has made it up then?"

"Robert," she chastises gently, "don't scare me like that." He only chuckles against the soft skin of her neck. His arms are crossed right across her belly and her elbows sit against his lower arm, her fingers curling around his hands. "Besides, it is I who should be teasing you about being up. What time do you call this?"

"You haven't been up that long. That chicken has only been in, I would estimate, forty minutes." He presses a kiss to her shoulder. She laughs.

"You might be right. But at least I did get up to put it in. Mr Lazy Bones here was still fast asleep when I tiptoed down the stairs."

"It's been a long week at work and I most certainly read the early hours of this morning on the clock before we so much as stopped talking let alone anything else."

"Excuses, excuses." But he knows she is teasing, her body twisting in his arms so that she may kiss him.

He indulges her, it was all to easy to forget they had four children. One not even at school, another having boyfriend trouble. Edith was on the brink of marriage and a mother and Mary, well, she was counting down the months until she would be a single mum; Matthew quite gone from cancer.

That was all forgettable though when Cora winds her fingers into his hair and presses herself tightly to him. He breaks the kiss to find the buttons on the front of his shirt that she is wearing. He keeps his forehead pressed to hers.

"So tell me, why exactly are you wearing my shirt?" She blushes a light pink and her face drops down to watch his hands gently unbuttoning it. He stops to tilt her face back up to his. "You don't need to be embarrassed Cora."

"But you know why I like it." Her voice is a whisper and if he wasn't standing so close to her he would surely have missed it.

"I'd like you to admit it again." Her fingers tighten around his dressing gown. The knuckles turning white. It was strange how the simple things irked her still, even now. He knew it linked back to her past and Simon and how he had demanded she tell him what she liked (in a more sexual context).

"Which is when I remember that I married an incorrigible man." He laughs and is pleased to find that she emits a small chuckle. Her fingers tug less aggressively at his dressing gown and the look which penetrates from her eyes is his favourite look. The one that shows she is embarrassed by his comment. He liked embarrassing her. "I like...I like the smell. It makes me feel closer to you." She dips her head, her forehead falling again his collarbone.

"Do you know what I like about you wearing it?" She doesn't reply so he carries on. "I like that it reminds me of the fact you used to wear it all the time. And, more importantly, you look very dashing." She shakes her head at that and she looks up at him with a slight frown.

Before Robert can question her a timer makes a noise and she launches for the fridge.

"Time to prepare the stuffing." He helps her break up the bread crumbs and stick them together with water and then sprinkle the spices about but all Robert really thinks about is why she had frowned. What had he said that had upset her?

They finish with a flourish and she sets them in a Pyrex dish ready for cooking later.

"I thought I might go upstairs and change." She tilts her head, softly asking him to let her passed. When she takes another step towards him, he acts on instinct. On the instinct he'd had when he first walked into the room.

One hand finds her waist, the other cups her face slowly to his. Her lips easily move with his, the deep breaths when he pulls away a clear indication that she felt what he did. Her hand is fanned out over his cheek and chin as she adjusts her lips on his. It all goes swimmingly until he nudges her to rest against the central island in the kitchen and lets his hands settle on the buttons of her shirt. He pushes one of his hands up under the hem, trailing his fingers over her belly and side. The other stays on the outside, struggling to release the second button from where the fabric holds it. He knows she's reluctant the minute her hand drops from his cheek, quickly followed by her lips.

"Let's stick to kissing." She takes his hand from her front and holds it in her own. When she leans back up to kiss him he pulls away. He can feel his eyebrows pulling together, the heaviness of the skin pooling between them above his nose.

"Cora...? What...is there something-"

"Nothing. But we are older than we once were Robert and last night was enough to be recovering from."

"I hurt you?"

"No. No. Of course not. I'm just tired." He would believe her normally but there was something about the fact she'd been so willing last night and previously so excited about this trip, dropping hints about what she wanted to do.

"Cora, what is it?" He knows he's hit a nerve when she steps away from him, determined instead to walk about the room.

"We are grandparents now. Marigold is heading for two and George is growing so quickly. Sybil is practically an adult. Yet...we still seem to carry on as though we are young parents. It's not that I don't want to...it's...I just think maybe we are a little too old for some of what we get up to."

"I don't accept that Cora. Edward is not even two yet. He is our son, born out of love. That is not a couple who should just go more slowly just because they've aged a few years. More than that, this isn't at all like what you were whispering the other week, or even last night, about how you like that we still have sex. Cora-" He looks at her properly then, the way she holds the shirt around her with her arms crossed, protectively. The way her nails scratch over each other and her gaze is on the floor. He strides across the space and takes her in his arms. "Oh my darling, what is it?"

"You're right that I do like that we still...but I can't. I can't do it where you can see. It's fine at night in the dark but...but if you see that I'm not young and pretty but old and wrinkly-"

"Cora please stop. Stop saying such absurd things." Why hadn't he seen this coming on? She was often emotionally unstable about things (all of them things she should be content with) until she has had his full approval or he's proved it has no impact on him.

"But it's not absurd. Every woman, every wife, goes through those years of wanting to keep her husband but seeing his eyes wander elsewhere, however innocently that may be done. It's human nature. Men keep wanting things past the age woman do."

"Maybe. But I don't want anything but you Cora. Tell me why I would want to sleep with some random woman whom I've never met, rather then the woman who has provided my home for me; given birth to my children and stuck by me though ulcers, death and my mother!?" He chuckles, but he's knows he's miles from convincing her when he doesn't even get a smile. He briefly realises that the whole idiotic episode with Jane had likely added to her worries but he wasn't going to resurrect that.

"Maybe because she's prettier and-"

"She's not prettier though Cora, because pretty isn't about body shape or big boobs or whatever people think. It's about finding someone who, when you look into their eyes, you see their soul and all their thoughts. And when you hold them in your arms they fit. When they kiss and touch you it feels like time stops. That's pretty." He strokes a piece of hair that dangles by her face behind her ear. She doesn't say anything and because her eyes stay fixed somewhere by their toes he has no idea how she is taking what he's saying. "More than that though Cora, I love you. I don't wake in the morning and count how many more wrinkles you have, I wake and give thanks to the world that I'm waking beside you. Above all else in the world Cora, I give thanks for my wife."

Her head slowly stirs. First her forehead comes into view and then the length of her nose. But it's her eyes he waits for, they alone will tell him his success. They are a little damp at the edges which he quickly brushes away. She says nothing but takes his hand and squeezes gently, he kisses her forehead in return.

Those earlier thoughts that had been heated and passionate seem to have disappeared, and he appreciates her point that such a thing would not have happened ten years ago. Those desires are replaced instead with a softer thoughts of how to enjoy the day laughing and smiling in her company.

"How about we play a board game while the chicken progresses and then, we can cook together. It's been a while since we did that." He lets go of her to escape to the cupboard in the adjoining living space where he had placed a few of their favourites when they'd arrived yesterday. "Scrabble?" He comes back to the kitchen with the letters already racing around inside the box, clicking against each other and on the side of the box.

"Of course. I always win scrabble." Her lips break into a wide, closed lipped smile and her eyebrows arch. She rubs her hands together as she climbs onto the bar stool of the central island. "You're on Crawley!"

They play in silence for a little while. Each surreptitiously watching the other over the top of cupped hands. Robert was generally pleased with how well he was holding up, usually he was losing by a mile even at this early stage of this game. However when they move in to take their seventh turn he loses all hope as not only does she steal his spot on the board but she lays a 'Z' on a triple scoring square. He grumbles and complains leaving her to only smile and laugh. Now that he has clearly lost he decides that maybe a little conversation may be nice.

"Roz text me this morning," Cora seemed to agree with the plan of conversation, "she said Edward was asking about us but is being very good. She was worried about Sybil, she was struggling with some coursework or something. And to quote your dear sister 'Edith was causing bedlam downstairs moving her stuff' which personally I was pleased to hear. With the wedding in December I was rather hoping she'd fly into action over sorting her stuff."

"Do you think December was a good choice? And New Year's Eve of all days?" Robert's head had been churning that question around for weeks but with Edith in the house a fair amount and Edward a professional at eavesdropping and then reiterating the conversation to whoever he and Cora had been speaking off he'd been wary to mention it.

"If it's what they want then why not? I don't doubt it had much to go with Bertie's job. I know he'd booked a week off in January anyway so he's now going to use that week for honeymoon. Besides Robert, we married in February, hardly traditional." He nods his head at that while laying the word 'piano'—anything to get rid of all the vowels he has. He leans over the board at her, keeping his chin resting on his hands.

"We were never traditional though. I mean what woman falls for a man who even at twenty-two had too much fat on his belly and was hardly a handsome chap." She's giggling softly already. "And when she is drop dead gorgeous and half the men in the office were, and still do, watch her walk it was all very much surprising that she ever agreed to a date with me. Let alone stick with me." She pouts her lips, her eyebrows turning downwards in the middle as her head shakes from side to side.

"You underestimate your appeal. I wasn't the only one who had people watching my every move. Their were plenty of women that would have willingly gone out with you and they probably would have slept with you on the first date." It was odd how she still seemed to berate herself over being such a bad girlfriend that first year but Robert never answered to it. It hadn't bothered him. She was broken and hurt and he had been right not to take advantage. "I think your appeal was physical. It was for me anyway. I can't account for the other women, the size of your wallet may have been more of a factor for them."

"And it wasn't for you?" Her head shakes slowly from side to side, she was well aware he was teasing her slightly, her eyes focused intently on the letters she is trying to form into a word.

"I was a broken woman, in a foreign country. I needed a friend. You reached out without me asking. If you'd been a homeless man I would have been content." It was so odd hearing it like that. He'd seen it play out of course. He'd seen her grow to depend upon him. He'd watched the way she'd come out of her shell to become the bright woman he loved so very much. "I don't think I say thank you enough. You have no idea how black my existence was. Even if we hadn't ended up here. Old and married forever; a house full of children. I hope that you would have kept my world bright for me." He reaches across the table to catch her hand, he holds it there, fingers intertwined.

"I would have. Without a doubt."

* * *

"So...how was your weekend?" Cora should have seen that would be the first question. She should also have known that Sophie's eyes would be wide with the statement and she would drag over the word 'so.'

"It was fine. Just as we planned; quiet and relaxing."

"Cora...I know when you're withholding information." She is leaning over the restaurant table, her fingers drumming uncharacteristically. Cora had always wondered if she revelled in these trivial meeting because they were so relaxed compared to the high profile situations she was used to. Everywhere else she went she was watched so closely by cameras and the public. Here she was no royal, she was a normal woman. Yes, people across the cafe still looked, she was recognised and a personal bodyguard still sat three tables away but that was as normal as one could manage when you married a prince.

"I'm not withholding anything. Robert and I had a lovely time. He just surprised me a little regarding a couple of things, in a nice way though. They were good surprises."

"Oh..." Sophie's eyebrows rise suggestively.

"Nothing like that! He just said things that put some worries at rest." Cora can tell that Sophie's eyebrows are raising over the mentions of worries. It was a known fact to Cora that Sophie had always thought of her and Robert's marriage as a model example so for Cora to have any worries was not within Sophie's radar of what she thought of their relationship.

"How's Mary coping? Did anything come of that woman you were worried about who was hanging around with Matthew?" Cora remembers easily the last time she was sat in this cafe, watching Lavinia and Matthew out the window. She'd forgotten she hadn't kept Sophie up-to-date.

"It's a little complicated. She is a nurse. Matthew is actually taking part in a project she's doing on cancer treatment. It's reduced his life expectancy considerably and...Lavinia is in love with him. Poor thing. Mary and her have become very close friends. She's not ready though Sophie. I've seen one daughter lose her love, I've seen my sister-in-law lose her husband and Mary is not ready. And to be honest I think she sits in a worse place than either of the other two people I mentioned because she pretends to be someone she isn't far too much. She's pretending to be all strong rather than admitting it's looming over her and scaring her. Edith and Rosamund both cried it out and grieved obviously. I can see Mary being taken by surprise by those feelings and shutting down completely."

"She'll have lots of support. Lots of understanding people around her." Sophie's curls her hands around hers and Cora tries to smile. But the Matthew thing was getting her down, every time she saw Matthew now he was looking more and more ill and Mary seemed to not seem to notice; she chatted along about all the things they were planning for George that seemed to stretch through the next five years; as if she'd forgotten that he wasn't going to live that long.

"Hello you two." Phyllis leans over to kiss her cheek before shuffling around her to sit down next to her. Joe smiles awkwardly, complete in awe of Sophie.

"Your Royal Highness." He dips his head.

"It's Sophie, Joe, please. I am very pleased to meet you. Phyllis has talked of nothing else." Phyllis blushes suitably and Joe takes his seat opposite her.

"What have we got to discuss?" Phyllis, shrugs her coat off, her eyes darting between the two of them. Cora knew that question was aimed at her, after all, Sophie had no idea why she had called this meeting either. "Actually, we are not all here yet. Ethel is meant to be-"

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting." Ethel rounds the corner, Barrow close at her heels (he immediately slips away to sit with Sophie's bodyguard, no doubt they were friends). Ethel slips off her coat and Cora immediately spies the slight rounding of her stomach.

"Not at all. We can start now you're here." Cora suddenly feels nervous. She hadn't passed any of this with any of them and she was just about to bring up altering three of their lives forever. "I think maybe I've gone about this in the wrong way now that we're all sat here but...really it's about the baby Ethel." The young woman purses her lips and shakes her head.

"If this is you worrying that you forced me into having it I'm not going to sit here and listen. This charity had done me wonders and your advice was sensibly given, I asked for it."

"No that wasn't what I was going to say but thank you for your confidence." Cora fidgets her nails on the table. "You're still planning on adoption?"

"Yes. Certainly. I can't raise the baby myself not after...everything but...well, you know."

"Yes. So...I thought..." her fingers seem to want to stay permanently stuck to the table. Her nails pushing into the non-existent cracks in the wood. "And I'm not pressurising anyone here it's just a suggestion. Ethel, Phyllis can't have children but has always wanted them. She and Joe are on an adoption list at the moment. I thought maybe...maybe you guys could come to some understanding."

There is a long silence in which nobody says anything. Cora's finger splay on the table, she'd made a dreadful mistake. Definitely a mistake.

"I didn't...forget it."

"No." That was Ethel, reaching over to still Cora's fingers. "Maybe Phyllis, Joe and I should chat together. You and Sophie go have some lunch together and gossip. Although, Sophie I meant to say that Barrow can be dispensed with. He's done a fine job-"

"I won't hear of it Ethel. He's yours until the baby is born. Cora says you've a job in Scotland after that?"

"Yes. Yes I have."

"Well you keep him for now. It's important that you're safe. And, um," she glances at Phyllis and Joe, "we will leave you guys to chat." Cora feels her sleeve being pulled as Sophie drags her out the cafe. The footsteps a few feet to their left signify Sophie's bodyguard. Cora notes as she tries to calm her disbelieve that he's a very good looking man. Young, not much older than Mary and very handsome: model handsome.

"Your bodyguard...I'm surprised Edward allows it." Sophie laughs like a girl.

"Cora! What are you suggesting? You're right though, Edward was worried at first over Jimmy, very worried, but he got over it, I just had to pay him extra attention. Besides I have some gossip on the topic. I told Thomas that following his work with Ethel he'd been reassigned to the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge." Cora's mouth forms into a small oval. "Yes, quite a step up. Anyway he gave me some lame excuse about not wanting to leave Louise and James and transfer his attention to George and Charlotte but," Sophie leans in closer, "I think he has a partiality for Jimmy."

"No!?" It had been years since Cora had been involved in gossip like this. Since high school back in the US probably. No doubt this was because her life had picked up so soon after leaving school—her parents pushing her at Simon—all that gossipy, girly stuff had gone out the window as she'd been thrown into making very adult decisions.

"Edward and I have always been fully aware Thomas is gay and I mean we've already pointed out the merits of Jimmy!" They laugh together and duck into a different tearooms. "But," Sophie picks up a menu as they take a seat and leans over it, "you haven't finished telling me about your weekend with Robert. What worries were these that he dispelled?"

Cora should have known, or maybe she did subconsciously that Sophie would swing the conversation as soon as she could manage.

"I will tell you, but can we discuss Phyllis and Ethel a second? Did I do the right thing, suggesting what I have?"

"That's why you wanted me to come? To be an overriding authority who was checking your decisions?" Cora nods meekly.

"You are the patron."

"I agree with the decision. I wouldn't have left them if I didn't think it was sensible. Cora, you have a heart of gold. Edward and I would not, nay, we _could_ not, be friends with people that weren't. Think of all the things you could leak to the press! Edward has always looked up to Robert and then he looked up to you. I remember meeting you both for the first time and it told me something really important about Edward, he had decent friends so he must be a good man." Their coffee's arrive and Cora takes a more than generous sip, her mind thinking about how on earth she was going to explain to Sophie about how she and Robert had enjoyed their weekend without telling her any of it. As is often the case, by some kind of miracle a man on a bicycle pulls onto the kerb outside and Cora almost drops her mug in realisation.

"Oh my Sophie. I completely forgot to ask about your cycling. How's the preparation for the challenge* going. My calling a meeting must have dragged you from training isn't it in a fortnight?" Sophie raises her eyebrows and shakes her head.

"You and changing the topic. I hope Robert doesn't have to deal with this! Cycling is going very well but then I'm motivated for it. The Duke of Edinburgh award is such a good charity. You can see exactly what young people get out of it. But yeah, I'm sure I can manage it, I haven't fallen off for a few weeks and all the people on the team are so behind me and nice so...yeah." Their sandwiches arrive, the waitress dawdling by the table her eyes not moving from Sophie.

"I hope your sandwiches are to your liking, erm, your royal highness." Sophie gives the young girl a smile.

"Sssh. I don't want to draw attention. And the sandwiches will be just fine. Thank you." Cora refrains from rolling her eyes. There was a reason Sophie didn't dine publicly and much preferred a sit in dinner for meeting friends. "Anyway, so the cycling. Yes it's fine although I know James is going to miss me something terrible.*"

"And you'll miss him. I don't know if Edward told you that Robert and I have been personally invited by him to meet you at the finish line. Little Edward is coming with us."

"He did tell me. I'd be grateful if you'd have the three of them for dinner one night that I am gone. It will cheer James up and Edward's cooking is not...well, not as good as yours." Cora laughs. She'd attended a dinner, many years ago now, before Sophie had been a part of Edward's life and she could confirm that the Prince was not an excellent cook.

"Goodness of course we will. Louise is growing up so fast I fear she'll be an adult the next time I wake up." Sophie laughs by nods in agreement. "Speaking of which Sybil is causing us a problem at the moment."

"Oh, she's always been such an angel. I know you and Robert were always thankful that she helped pacify Edith and Mary. Is it a teenage thing?"

"No. Well, yes, it's a boy thing."

"Oh." Sophie places her sandwich back on her plate. "And this is Sybil so I'm thinking it's not Mary or Edith who had a boyfriend for ten minutes and then they marched in the door saying it was over." Sophie had always understood her girls very well, no doubt from spending so much time with them.

"That's about the size of it. The problem is he's very traditional. He believes in chastity and Sybil, well, doesn't. He went to Robert the other week to ask for his consent to marry her. A month or so ago she almost eloped with him but I caught her."

"Oh my Cora. Why didn't you say before?"

"I don't know. The issue is Tom, the boyfriend, is a nice guy. He's exactly what Sybil would go for. Added to that his grandfather helped Robert and I get together and his father is the agent at Downton. Robert and I both like him but he has a real attitude the minute you suggest that maybe getting married before Sybil has so much as been to university is not a great plan. He thinks we don't like him and it's not that-"

"It might all sort itself. Young love can be fickle." Cora wasn't convinced on that score. When they had told Sybil how Tom had confronted Robert she'd been happy that he was standing up for his beliefs. She said it showed a good grounding. She had conceded that she was trying to persuade him to be more flexible with his opinions but that she wasn't 'going to dump him for it.'

She's about to explain to Sophie when her phone buzzes. A text from Phyllis.

 _Didn't want to call and interrupt your lunch. Joe, Ethel and I have come to an understanding and we are going to have the baby. Filling out the forms this weekend. Thank you so much for thinking of it. Xx_

She shows Sophie who only smiles, the last corner of her sandwich disappearing in a large bite.

"That's excellent news. Now I'm sorry to say I ought to go. I've got some cycling to do and the kids have to picked up from school at half three." She stands. "But don't think I'm not going to keep snooping about your weekend. I'll get Edward onto Robert." She hugs her and kisses her cheek before flying from the cafe, Jimmy close at her heels.

Cora can't think for half a second. Today was a whirlwind. Her thought jumping from one child to the next. From charity to home life. She needed some fixed point. She takes her phone out and sends a quick text to Robert—maybe he had a free hour today. She gets a text straight back.

 _Meet you in the tea rooms around the corner from the office in the next twenty?_

She smiles to herself as her phone bleeps again with the kisses and heart he'd left off the last. He was adorable sometimes.

Crossing London in the middle of the lunch hour was never a good choice. Men in suits and women in dresses clutch coffee in one hand a pack of sandwiches in the other. Someone inevitably gets something down their front and then has to wrestle in their bag for a napkin while somebody else tries to push passed to get off the train. With no such mishaps herself she makes it to the cafe only to find Robert already waiting, a bunch of flowers laid on the table in front of him. Her mind slips effortlessly back to another such occasion but she brushes it away. That other occasion had been the day before their whole world had once again done a somersault. She could only hope this day wouldn't prove to be the same.

* * *

 _The steps are uneven and wet. Dewy droplets sticking to the stone and trickling slowly towards the canal beneath. The gondola wobbles as she tries to place her first foot up onto the wet stone. The gondolier holds her hand firmly and she can feel Robert's hand supporting her back._

 _Before she can so much as attain an upright position a waitress is welcoming her with a strong Italian accent and exclaiming over the youthful look of the Countess of Grantham. She knew Robert had booked them a beautiful lunch, how could it surprise her when the whole day had this far been meticulously planned?_

 _Robert fingers stay stuck to her back, and where each digit shifts the fabric of her top she feels her skin warm in something far nearer desire than she had felt in months. The waitress is chattering away but Cora hears none of it, her eyes taking in the sheer height of the building and the luxurious wooden panelling that lined every wall. Large framed portraits of visitors and owners lined the walls. There were stunning landscapes of the city. Although the chandeliers were all glittering with coloured glass this was no modern hotel, all was traditional. The very essence, the smell, reminded her of Downton; the staff were all smartly dressed and she realised why Robert had persisted she wore a classy summer dress today._

 _They get shown right through the foyer and into the dining area. The stunning decor continues. All the tables are laid with sparkling silver and bold flower arrangements. But still they did not sit, despite walking passed numerous empty tables._

 _Walking through a doorway at the back of the room Cora finds herself stepping out onto a balcony, a small circular table, with ornate legs that stretch out from a central column, is laid for two. Upon the table was not a grand display of flowers like on the other table but just a singular rose. On one of the chairs however lays a wrapped bunch of red and white roses. Robert pulls out that chair for her and passes her the flowers. He doesn't speak and for that she is grateful, she would have to reply and at this exact moment she can not think of anything that she might say. He was being altogether far too forgiving of how badly she had treated him about the whole Robin situation._

 _Instead she turns her gaze to the view right across the grand canal. She watches the gondoliers negotiate the swelling waters brought about by the larger yachts and boats that race passed. Bringing her eyes in closer she admires the curves of the balcony railing as she tucks her roses by her feet._

 _The waitress reappears with champagne and Cora finally looks at him. His smile is wide which only makes her own widen. She places her hand, palm up, on the table_ _before them. He takes it readily between both his hands._

 _"You were very cunning to plan all of this." He chuckles ever so softly, his gaze fixing on their joined hands rather then her face._

 _"Not cunning. I think I would prefer thoughtful." She pushes her thumb over the firm skin above his own._

 _"Yes sorry. Thoughtful and romantic I think."_

 _"You do?" His eyes genuinely light up before her and she shakes her head._

 _"Of course I do Robert. What woman would not find her husband booking a table at a fancy restaurant, a special table with a wonderful view no less,and buying her roses not romantic?"_

 _"I'm pleased that you're happy." She bends her arm, pulling his hand towards her._

 _"Robert, I thought we discussed this only yesterday, the gloom is lifting and I want you and I to have our marriage back. Properly. I am perfectly happy and you have made me so. I still sense that you think we are on a knife's edge; we are not. You are still looking at me as though I might burst at any moment. That won't happen." She releases his hand to pick up he menu laid in front of her._

 _She peruses it quickly, only needing to see a few words to know her selection. The waitress takes their order and is gone again. They sit watching the boats race by, holding each other's hands in the centre of the table. They each make passes over the others fingers and palm but neither say a word._

 _The starter and main come and go with little talk, they hold each other at every available opportunity and feed each other spoonfuls of their dishes; laughing when_ _something slips onto the table or their laps._

 _When the desert comes Cora decides she needs to go back to reassuring him. She was ready now, but it appeared he wasn't as ready as she'd been assuming. He panicked far too much about upsetting her._

 _"We would have loved him Robert. We did love him. He's watching us; I know he is. And I know he wants me to go back to being a good mother and a decent wife so that we might be blessed with more children to love."_

 _"I know all that Cora. It's you I worry over. Whether you're definitely ready for this and-"_

 _"Robert, when we first went out and I told you about my past and you said I had the first say in everything. You're equally worried for me now, so let me have my first say; I'm ready." He nods in silent understanding and putting down his spoon takes her hand to his mouth and kisses around her wrist and down onto her palm._

 _She reluctantly pulls her hand away as her phone bleeps i_ _n her bag. Hopefully this was the message she had been awaiting. She flicks open the message from Elsie Hughes, a woman she had come to rely on as much as Robert._

What you asked for shall be delivered to you may moment. I hope the lunch was to your liking _._

 _Cora frowns and as quickly dissolves into laughter._

 _"Robert did you ask Elsie to help you sort today?" He blushes scarlet at which she only laughs more heartily. "I asked her for some help too. And it seems she has linked your plans with my plans." Cora chuckles softly just as the waitress appears not just to take their plates but to had Cora a key._

 _"A believe this is yours for the afternoon?" Attached to the loop that also holds the key is a key ring with the number sixteen embossed (she assumes that was not Elsie's doing but mere coincidence, either way she thinks it bodes well). She looks up to see Robert watching her quizzically, his face still tinged slightly pink. "I asked Elsie to arrange a private afternoon for us in the city. It seems she managed to find a room at the very hotel you had selected for lunch."_

 _She stands from the table, carefully picking up her flowers. Robert takes her hand and she turns one last time to look at the gorgeous view before they step inside._

 _They get escorted up the grand staircase that twisted like the one at Downton but was enclosed not by fancy wooden handrails but metal ones that swirl into a cascade of patterns between the rail and the step. The carpet beneath their feet is a rich blue rather than he bright red. Robert's hand doesn't release hers, which is a comfort—at least in the sense that he finally seemed to have believed her._

 _Room sixteen is pointed out for them and Cora slips the key into the lock, her hand still clutched in his. When the door falls open she walks in, pulling him gently along behind her, their clasped hands dancing on the base of her spine_.

 _The room is spacious and large but none of the paintings or the furniture capture her attention. All she see is the large bed, much larger than the one in the cabin onboard. It had a ornate wooden headrest and a thin duvet covered in a rich blood red cover. Cora could see that Elsie had been at work over the telephone. Champagne and yet more roses lay on one of the bedside tables while some white petals had been scattered on the red linen. She's about to turn to Robert when he surprises her._

 _His hand releases hers and curves around her waist without hesitation. The other hand glides down her arm, leaving goose bumps in its wake before prizing the bundle of flowers and her handbag from her grasp. They get placed on the stool at the foot of the bed, close enough that he doesn't move his hand from her waist._

 _She feels his body move closer to her own, the thin layer of her dress easily allowing for the sensation of his rougher short fabric to be felt on her hip. His breath tickles down her neck and onto the skin beneath the collar of her dress. Her neck falls back unasked and a small sigh vibrates from between her lips. His shoulder is hard but that comforts her if anything, it had been so long since her head had rested here._

 _His warmth is now far nearer her exposed neck. Her pulse pounds and she wonders if he can see it rushing through her arteries. She doesn't dare open her eyes and look up to him not when his nose is grazing down her cheek and then along her jaw while one of his hand's makes short work of unzipping the back of her dress before slipping inside._

 _She shudders, and it certainly wasn't from the cold. Each of his digits is warm and firm as it strokes over her shoulder blades and then shifts beneath the strap of her bra, smoothing the warm skin before toying with the clasp. He goes about it agonisingly slowly, unclipping one of the two hooks and then proceeding to rub her lower back, ignoring the beckoning of the second._

 _In the meantime his lips replace his nose on her neck and start a gentle decent to her collarbone and shoulder. He is gentle at first but when he reaches the spot Cora can feel her pulse most heightened he swirls the tip of his wet tongue making her shiver again. He crawls back up to her ear, and nibbles the lobe before he continues the decent._

 _His hand finally prizes her bra apart and as his lips touch her shoulder and begin to push her dress aside his hand reaches up to help, pushing her bra away as well. She shifts it down her arm for him without thought, her brain far too occupied with the sliding of his hand around her side to the underside of her one exposed breast._

 _He keeps peppering kisses to her neck as he gently toys with the soft, fleshy skin. She tries to focus on taking her breaths gently in and out again but each time one of his fingers strays anywhere near her nipple she stops in anticipation, only for him to move his hand with a blow of air (that is definitely a chuckle) to her neck._

 _His other hand eventually unwraps from her waist and pushes her dress and bra from her other shoulder. A slight movement of his body means both fall to the floor._

 _"You seem decidedly over dressed darling."_

 _"Just wait a minute Cora. Please, I want to love you first." His hands graze over her nipples again, one on each this time and she can't even coherently shake her head let alone agree to his words. She only feels his fingers as they push and flick her nipple until it hardens. She knows she murmurs softly, her lips going dry as they stay in a permanently parted position._

 _One hand stops it's attentions and she murmurs his name, wanting the feeling back again. He tells her to wait and she briefly wonders if he thought she was asking about him removing his clothes—she had forgotten about that request. She doesn't have time to quiz him becomes his hand drops lower, to the elastic of her knickers. She expects him to remove them but instead his fingers stretch lower, inching their way along the thin layer of slippery polyester to the trimmings, and then lower still._

 _His finger presses there, teasing her through the fabric and then it presses again, with another joining it. She forgets how to support herself, all thoughts focused on the slow rhythm—too slow—her body leans back into his as her feet give way._

 _She feels him then, the strain of his trousers against her hip and lower back. She tries to turn to him but his arms and her own body's argument for staying put, and keeping his fingers swirling by her growing dampness, are all too appealing._

 _She knows in the back of her mind he's dragging this out for her, it certainly wasn't comfortable for him. She knows he's also teasing her; his fingers obstructed by her underwear from going where she wants them._

 _"Robert...please..." He releases his hold on her but only to place his hands on her waist, she is sure from fear of her falling over._

 _"Stay still." The stopping of his ministrations makes the bundle in the centre of her body flex with confusion and fall deflated somewhere around her stomach. The unanswered pulsing between her thighs feels like a full ache and makes her twitch. She can sense him moving around her and a second later he sits on the bed; still clothed. She reaches for his shirt but one hand catches her wrist. "Not yet." She about to complain like a petulant child but his hand strokes over her knickers again while his other hand tugs her nearer as he calmly pulls them from her waist and they she flicks them, and her shoes off her feet. "Sit on my lap." She doesn't need any persuasion, not with one of his thumbs loitering high on her thigh, grazing a wiry curl._

 _She kneels with her waist straddled over him. She places one hand on his shoulder but pushes the other down his shirt front to his shorts. She's about to press her hand to him but he takes her wrist and moves it to his shirt._

 _"Take my top off by all means Cora, but don't tempt me, not yet." She pulls it up over his head and he slips his arms free. The second it falls to the bed behind them his fingers sneak inside her moistness. She moans in a fashion she knows is not at all ladylike. His lips capture hers and despite her previous fascination with unclothing him, all she can think about is wrapping her arms around his neck and pushing her hands into his hair; letting her tongue explore all the places in his mouth she hadn't felt for months. She lets her instincts carry her, lifting herself onto her haunches and working in the opposite direction to his fingers._

 _When she feels her resolve slipping and her body beginning to shake she slows a little and lets him take her the rest of the way. She focuses instead on his lips, on showing him just how much she loves him; wants him. His moans are soft and gentle into her mouth which makes her flutter with_ _more desire. He flicks her nipple with his free hand resulting in her undoing. She emits a heavy breath into his mouth before her lips fall from his, her sticky forehead meeting his._

 _"That was...very beautiful." She drops a kiss to his lips before brushing her hand over his torso. "But, we ought to sort you out." Her hand reaches the front of his shorts and she easily unfastens them. He holds her waist to stop her falling off the bed but watches her hands move, the top of his head pressed to her forehead. She blushes, something she hadn't done in a long time when being intimate with Robert (it was natural after all) when he twitches at her soft touch as she parts his boxer front._

 _"Cora-" his voice is strained- "let me take my clothes off. It will be quicker and," her finger nudges him and she feels him harden again, "easier." He kisses her nose and then her cheek. She stands allowing him to move._

 _She lays herself on the bed, watching him. Admiring him. She wonders how she'd managed to sleep beside him all these months and not think about how handsome he is. His new gym membership was obviously being used if the more supple toning of his chest and arms was to be believed. She was pleased as exercise was something she worried about him getting with his office job. The fact it made him more appealing bothered her less, she'd always found him attractive._

 _He's beside her in no time. His hand pushing into her hair and rolling her to lie atop him. She was pleased, they both liked it better this way. His tongue finds her mouth with no difficulty, his hands separate: one to her back, the other to her breast. The one on her back sets a shivering path down her back, rubbing with some vigour done the dip of her spine. His thumb follows the crease of her bottom and she has to part their lips to catch her breath. His other hand leaves her breast alone to touch her opening gently, it doesn't last a second—she's well aware he's checking she's ready._

 _"Cora-" his voice is gruff by her ear and his eyes ask the silent question that hangs as thickly as their sweat around them. She adjusts herself above him, cutting him off. Her hands splay into the pillows behind his head._

 _He grazes at her opening at which she hums in contentment, Robert grunts his hands trying to coax her thighs down onto his own. She resists before lowering herself slowly down his length._

 _She finds herself murmuring as he slowly fills her. The feeling of being his once more was more pleasing than she had anticipated it being. To feel so completely whole again, to have her own desires at the forefront of her mind was wonderful._

 _His groans and moans of pleasure are definitely more base than her feelings of satisfaction but she can't complain, not when she'd made him wait this long._

 _She knows her body finds the satisfaction that Robert is so openly moaning about if the stickiness that was beginning to trickle onto her inner thigh was anything to reason with._

 _He is warm and hard so she sets a rhythm she_ _hopes will bring her with him. She alternates between a series of fast thrusts before drawing two out which always annoyed him but made her moan in satisfaction. He takes it the first time, only muttering her name in annoyance which only proves to arouse her more. When she slows the second time his mouth bites at her collarbone before he presses a series of kisses along her breast and then takes her nipple in his mouth. The nip of his teeth and the slash of his tongue make her groan and losing all coherent thought and control of herself he rolls them over._

 _She wraps her legs around him and finds that, despite his being deep inside her before, he was now catching that spot where she was burning hottest on every thrust. His thumb accosts her nipple while the other hand balances him above her. She finds satisfaction in trailing her nails slowly down his chest, etching the shape of every rib as the heat within her builds to that level which she knows brings nothing but pure satisfaction._

 _She expects him to come first, how could he not when he felt so stiff inside of her, so completely consuming and finding her special place every time. It's with some surprise, but complete satisfaction that she cries out a succession of guttural moans before his name as she feels the heat explode into a complete fire, her thighs becoming a little wetter._

 _She opens her eyes to Robert's release. His arousal finally stiffening completely, although to Cora she felt it had been so close for so very long, and his body mixing with hers._

 _She had thought she'd think of Robin in this moment and indeed, his face, his tiny face, flashes across her mind for a millisecond but then it is gone. Her mind filled instead by the present. By Robert peppering kisses across her chest and her neck as he rolls them to lie facing each other, still joined. He proceeds to kiss her nose, her cheeks and her mouth over and over again._

 _"I was beginning to think you wouldn't come." He murmurs the words gently in the hot air between them when her breathing is still trying to remember what resting is. His strained expression and her wondering at his release not coming before hers suddenly makes sense._

 _"Were you waiting for me? Is that what your face was so creased up in concentration?"_

 _"I was determined I would feel your release while I was still hard Cora. Not only is it better that way but this time, today, I needed that." His blush serves to make her laugh._

 _"Is that a polite way of you telling me you wanted to be reminded exactly what it felt like to sleep with me?" She raises her eyebrow at him and he shakes his head._

 _"Don't tease me Cora. I don't hold anything against you. I might be your husband but that doesn't mean I have a right to you when you don't want it. You haven't and now you do and that pleases me very much."_

 _"Umm, you are just a man after all." He leans forward to tilt her face to his._

 _"Yes, a man very much in love with his beautiful wife." She blushes but he misses it, his lips descending on her own._

* * *

* I don't know how many of you are aware but HRH Countess of Wessex (Sophie) undertook a diamond challenge for the Duke of Edinburgh's award 60th birthday this year. She cycled from Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh to Buckingham Palace. it was a marvellous story, and she created a blog every day that can be read at .uk. Her involvement has been so strong not just because she believes in the charity but because when the title (Duke of Edinburgh) reverts from the crown it is to be Prince Edward's, making her the Duchess of Edinburgh (as the Queen was upon her marriage until her being Queen) and they will be continuing the award in Prince Philip's honour. It is a very well respected award here in the UK.

*There are many pictures available online which show Sophie arriving at the palace. In many of these James is clinging to her waist, refusing to let go, hence my note here about her worrying about him. She must have known he was to miss her.

I hope you enjoyed this, please leave a review.


	37. Chapter 37

AN: I am so, so sorry for the delayed updates at the moment, life is just completely chaotic. I would like to thank the support I have received from many reviewers (including a great many guests) who have been asking about updates it kept me typing this chapter, in the time I did have, so do keep it up. I hope I have the tone of this chapter right but I found in incredibly difficult to write.

I am only going to say that I hope the final three chapters will all be finished and uploaded before the end of January, but I am not setting any promises.

Please review and I hope you enjoy.

* * *

 _His toes curl against something warm. It had been a long time since that had happened. They flex and separate trying to decipher if the warmth is what he thinks is it._

 _Cora._

 _Her deep breathing is quite clear beside him, but it rattles a little as he curls his toes back towards where the warmth had been, brushing._

 _Slowly in his half delirious state he remembers the thrills of the day before and that Cora being so close that their feet were rubbing together made sense. They'd gone to dinner and then slept together. When they'd got back on-board he'd ordered room service and they'd eaten on the bedsheets before falling onto them in an embrace that had seen him to sleep. The same embrace in which upon focussing more fully, he finds he is still in._

 _He is spooned around her, his chest less than than an inch from her back. One arm beneath the pillows the other draped across her waist. It is an unusual position for them, usually it was she that spooned herself against his back to keep warm, cuddling her bent arms between his back and her chest like a baby. What is still more odd is that they had slept all night curled together with him clutching her. Usually they might fall to sleep like this and wake within two hours and she would redress herself and they'd curl into the other position. Not this time though._

 _He dips his head to rub his nose over her hair that is tumbled between them before leaving a feather soft kiss to her shoulder. Her shoulders always surprised him. He thought of them as a place that had much bone and would therefore be hard but he'd found a fascination with pressing his lips there a long time ago. The skin was somehow baby smooth, particularly on the back of the shoulder. It also represented something larger for Robert. He was never able to completely escape how protective he felt of Cora and how delighted he was that she had opened up to him after what had happened in her past. He had at the earlier stages of their relationship, seen her progression of being happy to face away from him, without being scared, as a solid step forward and one that showed, that with him at least, she wasn't always on alert. Therefore he had taken to kissing her there, in his mind it was a way of telling her that he saw that she was content this way with him and he was acknowledging that he wouldn't hurt her. He'd never explained any of that to her but it sat as clear as the first day he'd realised it in his mind._

 _She doesn't respond to his touch and it pleases him to know she is sleeping contentedly. He closes his own eyes again and pushes his toes further down into the sheets trying to find the warmth to combat the slight shivers awaking his upper body._

 _He tries to move the bedding in a way that won't disturb her but will cover him but she must, as usual, be clinging to it somewhere because it won't move. He gives up and instead takes his arm from around her waist and shuffles until his shoulders are beneath the duvet._

 _"Robert..." her voice is muffled and has a dream like quality. Her voice mingles with the sheets as they rustle with her movement. She rolls slowly over until she faces him, her eyes fluttering as she tries to hold them open but they refuse her. Her fingers find his chest and a funny little sigh escapes her lips before she falls suddenly still, her eyes closing and staying so with a sigh. He smiles as her forehead falls against his chin and then slips to his collarbone as she relaxes further; she must have been dreaming and his movement had disrupted her._

 _He holds still, hoping that he too would be able to slip back into his slumber. The clock across from them reads a time which indicated they weren't too late yet. They would still be able to enjoy the sights of their latest port (which Robert couldn't frankly remember) all afternoon._

 _"I love him Mom." Robert's eyes open wide as he listens to her very clear dream-talking. She had the tones exactly as one might imagine them in a conversation. "And no, he is not a buffoon. I did think he was but he's not. You won't stop me. I'm marrying Robert because I love him." He can't help but let his mouth be drawn up into a grin. There is a strange swell of emotion too which makes liquid simmer at the corner of his eyes. It was nice to think she felt so strongly and clearly if she was having the dream now she must have been reminded of what had transpired a decade ago and she could still relate to those feelings. Meaning she was probably still happy. He dips his head to kiss her hair. Thank goodness they had found each other again._

 _She starts at his smoothing of her hair, and he watches as her eyes flicker again, trying to decide if it is worth opening for good._

 _"Cora, good morning. Did I wake you?" Her head falls back onto the pillow and she stretches her arms out from where they had been curled; her eyes still shut._

 _"Ummm."_

 _"Is that 'yes you woke me Robert' or 'no you didn't?'" Her mouth draws up into a smile and she opens her eyes a little._

 _"I don't know. But you're here and that's important." Her eyes open fully and she seems to take a second to reorientate herself. If he didn't know better he would think she was hungover. With the opening of her eyes they seem to become serious and she looks at him with eyes that tell him she was silently thanking him. She lifts her hand and trails it down his cheek, her nails gently scratching at his stubble. "Robert?"_

 _"Yes darling."_

 _"You know that I love you very, very much." He turns his mouth into her palm._

 _"Of course. And I, in turn, love you wholeheartedly Mrs Cora Crawley." He watches her blush, it was a very long time since he had used that way of addressing her. He takes the opportunity to kiss her, it had been to long since he'd lunged for her lips while she was blushing. He takes her by surprise, if the immediately parting of her lips to take a breath, is any indication. There is a throaty giggle mixed in somewhere too, followed by her nails pushing along his scalp as his hair is trailed between her knuckles._

 _They simultaneously shift their body weight, pulling him to rest more above her. He is careful not to lean over completely (keeping his lower body off of her) so he doesn't crush her._

 _Her mouth is unrelenting, pushing and pulling his lips. Her teeth nibble at his lower lip every so often and her tongue take deep dives into his mouth, tickling his own. When she was like this it was hard to believe their relationship had been platonic for the better part of half a year._

 _He would love nothing more than to oblige her hand that pulls his onto her breast and silently demands that he caresses it but the honest truth is he wants to talk with her for a while, just lie peacefully and make her blush and smile._

 _"Cora..." her mouth hardly lets him stop, her chin knocking his as she pulls his lips back onto her own. "Cora," he pulls further from her this time, separating them obviously, "I thought we could order breakfast and talk and cuddle for a while." Her eyes brows pucker together and finger half smoothes, half scratches, a line down his chest. His skin erupts in a splattering of goose flesh and she laughs seductively, her knee pushing into his hip._

 _"Or you could make me more hungry for food by satisfying how much I want you." His mind laughs at the irony of the whole situation. It was men that usually spewed such arguments and it was certainly not much in Cora's nature to be driven by desire. She was driven my love, sure, but from what he had always seen of her desire, it came from that, it wasn't as singular as she is making it sound now. His more pragmatic nature pulls him away from her._

 _"Later, I want to enjoy your company while we're away from home in every way. And as much as making love with you is terrific fun, to coin your phrase, my dear, I do want to talk and laugh with you too." She smiles in defeat and moves to slump against his shoulder, a long yawn vibrating across his skin._

 _"You're right. And, maybe, I'm a little tired anyway." He doesn't question her being tired despite the later hour of the morning. Yesterday had been a long day, with lots of revelations and a vast amount of sticky sex on a hot day in Venice._

 _It doesn't take them long to decide on food. The breakfast menu wasn't exactly overly diverse and the grumbling of his stomach in particular seemed to spell the words 'full english'. He dials and orders and is more than pleasantly surprised when in the time it takes them both to shower their food is with them._

 _They eat in silence, Robert far too busy chewing the rich spiced sausages and crispy bacon to leave room for talking. Cora seems to be the same, or at least every time he lifts his eyes to her, her mouth is full. He takes her beans as he goes (despite his coaxing since he had first discovered her dislike he had never yet seen her taste one)._

 _"Do you think the girls are okay?" Her question comes as her cutlery is placed on an empty plate. He finishes his mouthful before replying._

 _"I'm sure. Rosamund seemed content enough when we called yesterday morning."_

 _"I miss them. I know they squabble and Mary's complains about her food and the attention Edith gets as she learns to walk and things but I miss it in a weird way. Even getting up early to Edith crying or Mary demanding breakfast. It has a familiarity which it seems odd to be without." He couldn't agree more, although he had to admit to preferring this kind of morning, where he wasn't woken at the break of dawn by his girls, but could instead awake when he was ready to, with Cora in his arms. But watching them play and learn new things was a joy._

 _"Me too. They are beautiful girls and Mary is already showing signs of having not only the Crawley stubbornness but the Levinson one too." Cora laughs at that._

 _"How true. Edith seems more quiet but I can't tell if that's just because Mary talks so much she isn't sure whether to try her hand at talking more or if she is struggling a little with talking." Robert had never thought much about Edith's progression. She was heading for eighteen months and perhaps Mary had been uttering a few more words at this stage, but Robert couldn't say he didn't think Edith was grasping it. Alone in the mornings with her recently (when Cora had not roused from exhaustion and grief) and he'd been left to feed the two of them he found that once Mary was eating, Edith readily gurgled away saying random words and trying to string them together. She would even parrot back some of the things he said._

 _"She grasps it. You're right about Mary though. When I think about when Edith has spoken it is only when her sister is quiet."_

 _"Umm, I don't want to separate them either as I am still holding out hope that Mary might stop being jealous of her sister for no reason. I don't want it blossoming from what it is now. Separating them will only make Mary stay stuck in her world where she thinks we value Edith more. Equally, Edith might talk more given time to interact with her sister ,who is on a more similar level to her than either of us." He leans over to kiss her forehead, moving the trays of food onto the dressing table. It was adorable how much she talked and worried about the girls. He worried about them too, of course, but Cora was a mother and it showed more often than not._

 _"Edith will be fine. Now, where was it we left off earlier." He sits back down on the bed, swinging his legs up and pushing his nose across her cheek in one simple move. Her skin is soft and oozes the scent of the lavender soap she preferred. There is still a faint whiff of her perfume from yesterday, as his nose edges over the curve of her jaw to her throat. She sighs softly, her hand reaching forward to pull away his dressing gown._

 _He replaces his nose with his lips on the curve of her throat, feeling the slight vibration on her skin where her pulse pounds. He kisses downwards to start with, pushing the top of her dressing gown away and peppering some kisses on the softer flesh that curves into her breasts. She lies back, her hand still firmly held to his gown when his lips brush a little lower. He doesn't give her the satisfaction of tasting her nipple and instead adjusts himself to bring their lips together. She makes her annoyance clear when she doesn't kiss him back for a while but it doesn't last long, her gentle sign filling his mouth when he lets his hands linger on her sides. He's about to roll over and pull her atop him when he hears the distinctive buzzing of his phone. Cora must hear it too because she pulls away and struggles to sit up._

 _"Oh my goodness! It will be Rosamund. We said she shouldn't call us unless there was a problem so..." her face is a picture of panic as she grabs the phone. "Rosamund what is it? What's the matter? Are the girls okay?" No sound comes from the other end and Cora looks up to him quizzically. "Rosamund? Robert she isn't saying anything. Oh my goodness what if..." She tries turning up the sound on the side but she shakes her head again. Robert sees the tears forming at the side of her eyes and takes the phone._

 _"Rosamund can you hear me. Roz-"_

 _He stops dead. There was a sound now. A distinct sound._

 _Crying._

 _Rosamund's sobs. She mutters something but he can't work it out._

 _"Rosamund seriously, I can't hear you and you're scaring us silly. Are the girls okay? We said not to ring unless there was an emergency. That we would call you. What's happened?" Robert can feel his heart hammering in his chest, pushing at the cage that held it in place. He feels an aching in his head, a dull ache behind his eyes. Something had to be terribly wrong if Rosamund was crying. She never cried. Now she couldn't seem to say it. Images of his daughters' gone from the world, not breathing, in hospital race before him and he feels faint. The air stale and constricting around him._

 _"Dead." She mumbles something else too, but that's the only word he gets. He falls into the chair, not noticing the thump to his lower back, the burning behind his eyes was far bigger._

 _"Rosamund," he takes a steadying breath pushing away the tears, "please you're going to have to speak up. Who is dead?" Cora's behind him, her nails piercing the skin on his shoulders; her breathing inaudible._

 _"He's dead." Robert still isn't sure whether her tears are covering the words and she hadn't just said she rather than the 'he' he heard. The only 'he' Robert could think of was Marmaduke._

 _"'Duke's dead?" The answer this time is clearer. Not very clear but he hears it well enough._

 _"Yes." There is a large amount of rustling at the other end of the line. Robert doesn't move, or say anything. His brother-in-law was dead. How? When? Where? Those questions floated in his head but none of them would make his mouth function. He just stares ahead in complete shock. He hated to admit there had been a tinge of relief when it was clear it wasn't the girls but that had lasted less than a millisecond. He could tell Cora was the same. Her breathing had recovered a little but her hands had relaxed on his shoulders in that slow fashion which showed her head was churning as she tried to understand what she had heard._

 _"Robert?" His mother's shrill voice down the phone regroups his thoughts._

 _"I'm here. How...what happened?"_

 _"His got knocked off his motorbike. The police came to the house an hour ago." Robert takes a steadying breath. He'd liked Marmaduke very much. Loved him really. And now, now the charismatic chap was no longer with them._

 _"Oh god. You need us to come home?" He doesn't know why he poses it as a question. The answer was clear._

 _"I'm sorry to destroy your break but Roz can hardly stand up let alone look after Mary and Edith and I think I need to support Roz and-"_

 _"It's fine. Cora and I will be back in contact as soon as we've sorted a flight. I can't guarantee us getting one today obviously, not all our destinations have airports, let alone a flight to the UK."_

 _"Thank you. It's all horrible I must admit. I have never seen your sister in such a state." His mother always amazed him, she never seemed to anticipate other people's feelings. She knew, rather then felt, it was terrible and couldn't see that Rosamund was clearly going to take a very long time to recover, if she ever did._

 _"What did you expect? The man she loves is dead and in such a sudden manner she is now looking at the whole life she had planned shattered before her. Mama, I know you and Pa weren't completely besotted wth each other, you were close friends. But you do love Roz and I, how would you feel if you lost one of us? That's what Rosamund is feeling multiplied by a million." He closes his eyes against the tears he feels threatening. He didn't want to get angry but he knows his sister and she is going to need to be dragged through these next years of her life. Forced into participating. In Marmaduke she had found everything. There was to be no children, they knew that, so life was each other. Rosamund had never been a person who did things by halves, and her emotions were no exception. Robert knows without a doubt she will close in on herself and become more like his mother, with a harsh exterior that covered a broken spirit. He wanted to prevent that if he could and as he wasn't there his mother needs some coaching._

 _"Robert, I will be nice. I'll try. I can't say I ever warmed to the man but I know he meant a lot to your sister." That was a start at least. But as ever his mother swerves back to being factual within half a breath. "She's got to identify the body formally this afternoon and I'm going with her. That secretary of yours, Elsie, has agreed to watch the girls for a few hours, I hope that's okay?"_

 _"Yes. Can't think of anyone better."_

 _"And I've called Carson. He's on his way to London and will be looking after Mary and Edith until you and Cora get home. I know he gets on well with them and can be trusted. If you have someone else-"_

 _"No. Carson is fine. You focus on Rosamund. Give Carson my mobile number and tell him to call if the girls play him up or he needs to ask something. I'd rather he trouble us than you and Roz. Speak soon, bye." The line goes dead and Robert falls forward, holding his head in his hands._

 _He hears drawers opening and closing in the bedroom, Cora didn't need to be told to pack. He just sits rubbing at his temples. He tries to imagine what his sister is feeling but he can't. The second he so much as thinks of a life without Cora tears slide onto his cheeks. He isn't just upset for Rosamund though, Marmaduke had been a good friend to he and Cora. The four of them had rallied together against his mother and he'd been the adored uncle of Mary and Edith. They were going to take the news badly, even at their young age it was going to become clear quite quickly that Uncle Marmaduke had mysteriously disappeared. To tell them they would never see him again was going to be unfathomable. It was unfathomable to Robert._

 _Marmaduke had driven them to the airport less than a week ago and slapped Robert on the back and wished him luck. He'd even managed to make Cora smile when he'd whispered something to her and kissed her cheek goodbye. Cora hadn't smiled in months._

 _He doesn't hear Cora enter the room and with some shock he looks up to her as she pats his shoulder and finds he can't see her. His vision is blurred from tears he hadn't realised were falling._

 _"I've looked up details of the airport here. There's a flight this evening and still spaces. I'm going to go to reception and tell them the situation, see what they can do about us paying our current bill and whether they can recommend the best way to get to the airport." He nods faintly. He hears the rustle of her grabbing her bag and her footsteps disappearing to the door._

 _On impulse he stands and grabs her trailing wrist as she nears the door. He pulls her around sharply, violently even (something he tried to avoid at all costs), and crashes his mouth to hers, their teeth grazing in the process. Her hands cup his chin roughly and he feels her pull herself onto her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. Her wet cheeks graze against his own damp skin as they kiss._

 _They had everything that one really needed in life. They had each other and with it the potential to be happy. They had chosen not to be as happy as they could be recently and this was a moment to remember that the disagreements were like hole punches in paper. Small and insignificant. They didn't tear the paper or effect its stability. They could be forgotten, overlooked._

 _A tear, on the other hand, cannot be overlooked and his sister had just had her paper torn in two by a violent, unforeseen force._

 _Robert wasn't going to tear his own paper in half. He and Cora might punch holes in it a thousand times. But they weren't going to tear it. Not of their own making anyway._

* * *

The connection was easy. Robert's mind could only think of that day. Of how this scene must have played out the day the police had come to tell Rosamund, no doubt it had played out much the same as today. It had all began quite innocently.

Mary was calling around with George early this morning; Cora had thought it would be nice for the children to spend the morning playing together.

Robert would have complained, it was a Saturday and he would have liked to sleep in, but he was aware Edward had been restless this week and Cora hoped a morning playing with his niece and nephew would calm him down. The weather had not allowed for Cora to play with him in the garden, or take him out other than to the supermarket, and he was definitely a little boy who liked to have the freedom to run about and not be faced by the same four walls for hours. He hadn't been to nursery this week either, as there had been a bout of a stomach bug and Cora didn't want Edward picking it up.

Therefore he had been up early, at his usual time, leaving Cora to rest, and readied Edward for the day. His little boy had been excited at seeing him rather than his Mama and gurgled away about 'Papa not Mama.' Robert had told him his sisters were coming and George was going to come to play. Edward had then muttered away about 'trains' and his favourite soft toy teddy. He had snatched the said toy from his bed with the intention of 'pwaying with 'orge' and ran from the room only slowing to take the railing of the stair case (he couldn't reach the hand rail so used the vertical columns) and begin to take the steps one at a time. Robert offers to help him, or carry him, but he shakes his head stubbornly.

"Mama let me. She stand there." He points at the step directly in front of him and Robert moves to stand before his little boy. It was still surreal sometimes having a young toddler in the house again. Things he had got used to doing, leaving mugs of drink on low tables and not always putting his laptop out of Edward's reach had caught him out a few times. There had been some spills on the carpet as Edward attempted to use a left over cup of coffee like his special cup, and Robert had entered the living room before now to find him bashing the keyboard of his laptop. But the joys of it all far outweighed the disasters. It was the most wonderful thing to come home and open the door to Edward either toddling towards him (as was more common now) or Cora holding him in her arms, prompting him to speak to him. He never felt better than he did in those moments of each day, leaning to kiss his wife and cuddle their adored Edward. It was somehow easier to appreciate fatherhood when he was older. He had loved it with the girls, of course, but it was different then. It had been a distinct part of his life; changing nappies and not getting any sleep. Sybil had been better but then they'd been dealing with two other children going to school, responsibilities seemed to stream from their ears. Somehow with Edward, because all his sisters were essentially adults and were conducting their lives themselves he was finding it far easier to juggle being a father and a husband. He and Cora had definitely not had to give up so much of their 'couple' time because they were not moving from one little girl's demands to the next. Once Edward was asleep, he was asleep and they could do as they chose. Yes, Sybil was still at the dinner table with them and watching the popular television with them, but she also spent nights at Mary's and evenings out with friends (and Tom, of course, much to Robert's annoyance).

Edward teeters on one step near the bottom, his eyes lifting to see how close he is to the ground rather than watching his footing, but he doesn't fall. He rushes for the lounge calling for George.

"Edward he isn't arriving until after breakfast. Come with me and lets get you some food." He eats heartily and happily swings his legs beneath the table. Robert doesn't talk to him, aside from urging him to eat some more at one point, as he knew well enough, trying to coax a child into talking when they were eating was a sure way to make a mess.

The doorbell rings sooner than Robert is expecting (of course Mary would be early) and Edward demands to be lifted from his seat. Edith is quicker to the door than him (she was still living half her time downstairs and half in Bertie's house) and Marigold and Edward race around by their feet.

Mary doesn't put George down in the hallway, his crawling could take him anywhere, including back out the door if they weren't careful.

They all wander into the lounge, Robert still nursing his cup of coffee. Edith dives onto the floor with the children, helping them play trains and teddies. She bounces George on her lap and swings him in the air to make him laugh. Robert saw everything in Edith that he had seen in Cora when she had played with all of their children.

Mary on the other hand lowers herself onto the settee and crosses her ankles, murmuring from a distance when George looks around to her. She eventually turns her gaze to him, one eyebrow raised to complain over Cora not being up. She raises her eyebrows further when he says she's rather tired.

"I thought you two had finally grown up?"

"Mary don't be so scandalous! Edward has been difficult this week and your mother is not as young as she was when you and your sisters were girls."

"Be that as it may, you have worked all week and no doubt would have rather stayed in bed while Mama sorted the plans she had made. I wouldn't make plans and then not carry them out." No, indeed Mary would not. Robert wonders briefly if Matthew being so ill had not served Mary well. She had become even harder, and harsher than she once had been. He doubted if she is going to cope with what is to come she seemed, whenever he saw her, to be struggling to form a bond with George with Matthew present and he daren't think how bad it might become with him gone. George was quickly growing to look just like his father. Blonde hair, and blue eyes. Although, Robert did know that the eyes of his grandson would be his. He had learnt years ago that a baby boy's eyes were always the same as his maternal grandfather; colour and any sight issues included.* The same was not the case for girls. But nonetheless, George looked like Matthew and Robert knew that was affecting Mary's relationship with him. She wasn't immersed fully in motherhood and Robert knew that would have lasting effects if they weren't careful.

"Marriage is a partnership Mary. Your mother and I work together, not against each other. She had made the plan and I, noticing her tiredness, offered to carry it out. Besides, it allows me to spend precious time with my son and grandchildren." Mary shuffles uncomfortably, clearly she had seen through him and knew exactly where this was going.

"Do you not find it stifling? Spending so much time with children. They have their lives ahead of them and yet it feels as though we, as adults, have lost all that choice that lays before them. And then, with George I feel like in many ways I'm letting him down. He's going to have no father at some point in the near future but I can't imagine I will ever manage to be two parents for him." Robert says nothing, what can he say, he can hardly offer that much advice on the issue. "And the problem is I look at him and all I see is Matthew. And...and I know that's going to be really tricky when Matthew isn't here any more. I think my brain has been telling me that if I distance myself from George I might stop associating him with Matthew and then some of the pain at what is to come might go away."

Robert could see exactly how that worked, indeed it is exactly what he thought had been going on in her head.

"I think maybe you need to look at it backwards, Mary. Flip that it's head. If you _do_ get to know George and help him develop into a chattering toddler you will find he is different from Matthew. As he grows he will do things that do not remind you of Matthew. He will become a man different from his dad. Just as you and Edith and Sybil are not just like your mother or I. If you close yourself off to George you will only ever see Matthew and not the person hiding deeper."

"Granny would say Mama has made you into a philosopher. She wouldn't like to think her well-bred English son cared so much for silly sentiment."

"Perhaps not, but I have discovered the virtues of being a parent four times over. If you never meet another Matthew, George could easily be your only child Mary. And I don't want you missing that experience and neither will Matthew."

"That's all very easy to say. But half the time I have no idea where to start. He's only a child and he can't tell me what he wants." Robert would laugh if he was talking to anyone but Mary, but he bites his tongue, Mary had always been rather forceful, she had very little time for people that wasted time and no doubt she saw a child who couldn't properly respond to her as time consuming, even if she had a feeling that she shouldn't feel that.

"You have to do what your gut tells you to do. That way you will find the things that make him laugh. You'll find things he doesn't like too, but that is part of it."

She looks as though she is about to say something when the doorbell chimes. Robert stands. Obviously Cora had ordered a parcel that the postman couldn't get through the letterbox.

As he is crossing the hall he looks at the shadow of the person waiting on the other side (through the glass). He frowns slightly when he sees a much larger form than the one that he knew to be the postman. What makes him chew the inside of his lip is the fact the figure is clearly wearing a police helmet.

In three more strides he has the door open. His heart plummets when he sees the blue stripes on the top shoulder, yes, it was a policeman.

"Good morning Sir. My name is Sergeant Willis. I am hoping that a Mrs Mary Crawley is here? I called at her home but nobody answered. Her neighbour thought she would be here."

"She is but can I ask why you are here?"

"I have some news for Mrs Crawley. If you could take me to her?" Robert takes a long deep breath. Inside he is hoping and praying (he would get down on his knees if he thought it would help) that this is not about Matthew. But the look on the Sergeant's face is not comforting, nor the blood on his jacket. If that wasn't enough, his next words truly clinch the deal, the children's laughter is suddenly an ache, happiness doesn't have a place in a bleeding wound. "She may want you to sit with her as I say what I have come to say. She is likely to need steadying."

"Perhaps you should wait here and I shall fetch her." Robert walks with his head down back towards the lounge. His heart, rather then speeding up as he thought, slows. It becomes a deep, resonance between his ribs.

He doesn't need to look at Mary's face as she steps out into the hall and sees the Sergeant. He doesn't watch as the gentleman tells her to sit on the chair in the hall. He closes his ears as the Sergeant sits opposite her and tells her what he has come to say. He doesn't need to hear it, or watch it, because he knows what has happened.

Matthew is dead. Road traffic accident.

A single tear falls squarely onto his shoe just as he hears her squeak. The squeak that is neither a scream, nor tears, but a mixture of both. It consumes her in a violent shudder not long later and Robert finds himself striding across the floor to wrap an arm around her shoulders. She shoves and pushes like she did as a child, trying to tear herself from the confines of his embrace.

"Get off! Don't touch me!" She throws her hands forcefully into his chest as she stands. He turns to find her standing with her arms wide in the centre of the hall, as if trying to keep everything as far from her as possible. Robert can see that her gaze is not with the present. It is miles away, possibly searching through her memories, trying to hold onto the facets of Matthew she doesn't want to lose. What he sees on the surface is her subconscious turmoil while her thoughts are lost. Her body shakes, and she looks altogether as though she is going to drop to the floor.

He can't imagine how it must feel, and he has even less chance to, when Cora appears at the top of the stairs and gracefully glides down them before walking to the Sergeant and calmly offering him some refreshment. just seeing her is like seeing his whole life. The Sergeant refuses the refreshment and they talk for a while longer before she lets him out. It's then that she walks to him and takes his hands, one of her fingers slipping beneath his shirt cuff and rubbing the skin.

"We need to stay strong for her." She whispers very softly, there is no way Mary can hear.

Robert can't help but think that is an easy thing for Cora to say but he hurts all over. He wasn't prepared for Matthew to leave them yet, he was still such a support at the office and a wonderful father to George. Cora doesn't have those working ties with him, he was just a son-in-law to her. Someone who loved Mary.

"I am not sure I know how." He admits it between his own tears and she just squeezes his hands tightly before moving in the direction of Mary.

Robert watches as Mary falls against her mother, something she had never done. She had always seen herself too big for her mother's comfort, even at the earliest age. But this time she grips Cora's shoulders without hesitation, her knuckles turning white at the pressure. Her eyes are red rimmed and dark; her cheek and neck pasty in comparison.

Robert hears Edith laughing with George and calling his name, speaking baby talk as she calls for him to take the train from Edward. Robert slumps against the hall wall. He had a grandson who was now without a father and his mother hadn't exactly been taking to being a mother very easily. What on earth was going to happen now?

* * *

She wishes she hadn't worn her heeled boots. She had forgotten how much noise they made on tiled floors. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if the rest of the corridor wasn't so silent. If the cries and bleeps of the hospital hadn't given way to complete silence as they enter the morgue.

There is no machinery screeching out the poundings of hearts because there are no hearts, no beating ones anyway.

Perhaps her heels jangling noisily with the white tiling wouldn't be so bad if her companion wasn't moving like a ghost.

Mary's movements are graceful and poised.

Fluid.

She seems to not be touching the ground. Her head looks straight forward, never diverted by movements in her periphery. Her black coat sits perfectly on her shoulders and her hand doesn't even shake where it holds her handbag. She had answered the questions at reception with a blank expression and no emotional undertone. Her grandmother had taught her well.

Yet Cora knew, beneath the fluid movement and the controlled grief, she was walking by a woman whose head was too full of unhappiness and anger to notice anything else around her.

Therefore, Cora's heels echo in the empty corridor. She says nothing because she can think of nothing to say to a woman who is about to see her husband's dead body. And Mary says nothing probably for the same reasons.

Cora wants to tell her that she is there. That she will help her as best she can, and support her. But she knows Mary will just shut her down; she won't want help.

Cora swallows her own saliva as it accumulates in her mouth, a gentleman in scrubs she recognises all too well, stepping out of a nearby room.

"Bertie." His mouth doesn't even twitch up in the way it often did when he wasn't sure what to say. He stares solemnly back at her.

"Mrs Crawley." Now was not the time to abolish him for not calling her Cora. He visibly gulps before turning to Mary. "And Mary. If I may call you so?" Mary only nods. Keeping her eyes trained somewhere on his forehead. "When Matthew came in on the ambulance this morning he was brought to my operating theatre, he had large wounds to his head. I need to warn you before you see the body that this can be very disturbing. There is no obligation for you to identify him Mary. Your mother would be fine for the paperwork. Your mother-in-law, Mrs Isobel Crawley has already stated she will not be visiting."

"I want to see him." Mary's voice is confident. It betrays no sentiment. No worry. Just like earlier. Her hands do not waver on her bag and her eyes do not drop.

"If you are sure. He has been cleaned up, obviously, but the head wounds are obvious even from a distance, and one of his arms was broken." Cora feels her stomach clench. She was unsure she could do this, let alone Mary.

"Mary," she pushes her hand onto Mary's elbow, "think about, just for a minute, what you want to remember."

"He was going to die of cancer. I would have seen that. Been by his side for that. I wasn't for this. I never had my last words, Mama. Don't you see? I must see him. However harsh he may look I must find the peace within myself. We talked about what would happen at the end. And he wanted me there. That has been taken from us but I won't let it mean I can't be the last person to see his face." She cracks some emotion this time. Her eyes glaze with water but her gaze does manage to fix on hers. Her voice does waver and there are definitely hints of tears but they don't fall.

Bertie looks concerned and Cora is well aware that if he were any other doctor he would have reminded Mary to honestly think about what she is going to see, but Bertie knew his soon-to-be sister-in-law would not be budged so he just turns down the corridor with a small nod to Cora.

Her heels clip again but rather then being a piercing sound in a harrowing silence she finds the sound comfortable this time. They remind her to breath in and out with each step.

The enter a completely whitewashed room, one nurse sat on a stool doing some kind of test. Cora notes nothing else because they stop suddenly inside the door, Mary coming to an immediate halt.

A slight shuffle to the side (Mary was slightly taller than her) shows her the reason for the sudden stop. There is a bed in the centre of the room. It is covered to the neck but the flicks of blonde hair that Cora spies leave no doubt in her mind. It is Matthew. She briefly thinks Mary might turn and flee the room, Bertie doesn't move any nearer while Mary stands motionless. It was a clear sign that this was all to be done in her own time.

She doesn't take long to steady whatever thoughts had swirled and she steps forward. Cora doesn't follow. She doesn't want to. Seeing the tufts of Matthew's hair is enough. She tries to keep her eyes trained higher, on Mary, but they can't stop dancing down as if willing Matthew to sit up and acknowledge his wife.

Her eyes cloud with water and her throat tightens. As Mary moves closer and closer to his face, their bodies come into the same frame of her vision.

Mary's finger drags along the length of the blue cover over his body. She slows more and more as she nears his face but it caresses each inch none-the-less, as if memorising the rough outline of his body. She unzips the cover when Bertie confirms that she can if she would like to.

Cora watches as she pulls the zipper down, her hand not trembling, while Cora feels her own lips quivering with emotion. Mary's fingers loiter on his neck this time smoothing what Cora sees to be a cut as she takes a very tentative step nearer. Her finger slips up his jaw and around his cheek before pushing loose hairs that hang over his face back nearer his scalp. It's then, following Mary's hands that Cora sees it.

Across, behind, and above one of his ears his hair is not the blond it is everywhere else, it's dark, from a distance it looks brown. But it's only that colour because it's coated in blood. Mary traces her finger along the fracture as Cora finally feels her path obstructed by the bed, she must have been walking quicker then she thought. It runs right to his ear, where the doctors hadn't even bothered to clean away the dried blood.

Mary asks something and Bertie starts explaining but Cora loses it all. She moves her eyes away from the blood to the other injuries that are obvious, his left arm is clearly broken, the elbow seemingly bent the wrong way and there looks to be some kind of burn on his neck, near the cut Mary had fingered.

Cora takes a steadying breath as Mary curls her hand in Matthew's and traces her finger over his wedding ring. She leans over and kisses it and Cora has to turn away. The tears falling onto her cheeks.

Bertie offers Mary a chair as Cora walks back towards the door. She can't do it. She'd told Robert they needed to be strong for Mary but she can't do it here. Not when Matthew was lying right before her so clearly dead. It was easier to pretend it was less of a deal than it really was when you couldn't imagine what it looked like.

The door swings shut behind her and her legs shake as she reaches for the wall on the opposite side of the corridor. Her lungs forcing her breathing while her head spins and her stomach tries to throw up her breakfast. She turns to rest her back against the wall and tilt her head to try and take away the nausea. The door she came out of swings open and she prepares to look up into the face of an annoyed Mary but she sees only Bertie, offering a glass of water.

She takes it with a nod. The cool liquid rolls down her throats and at least offers some assistance with the nausea and dizziness.

"I'm sorry Bertie."

"It's discomforting for most people. Not many handle it like Mary. Most go in and out, containing tears. She's a strong one. I hadn't been able to decide if his cancer would make this easier or worse. Whether she'd be more prepared or more angered that fate has taken him. I still don't know." Cora shrugs, philosophy was not something she could deal with at this moment.

"She's not as strong as she makes out."

"No, indeed. She's more like her father than her mother." Cora furrows her eyebrows. "Forgive me Mrs Crawley that was impertinent."

"No. Tell me what you mean."

"Your husband has the same appearance of strength as Mary. You might not see that, having a closer relationship with him. But they are weaker really. Weaker than yourself and Edith I mean. The two of you have an inner strength. You display emotion more obviously but you have a strength within, yours I think comes from what I have heard about your past." Cora nods slowly, Sophie had always told her that she had an inner strength. Dear Violet had even said a similar thing once.

They stand awkwardly for a moment, Cora staring at her glass of water and deciding if she should return to Mary. Bertie twiddling his thumbs.

"Mrs Crawley, while we have a moment there is something you ought to know. Mary will find out soon enough but I was concerned about giving her more to deal with than necessary. Matthew wasn't alone in his car this morning. Lavinia Swire was rushed into hospital as well."

"Oh my is she okay?" Cora had long forgotten that she had once thought the woman was Matthew's lover.

"She's in the operating theatre as we speak but it doesn't look good." Cora closes her eyes, she dreaded to think how her father would take that. He had already lost his wife, to lose his only child, god help him. "My reason for informing you is that a gift was found upon Matthew's person, it was an expensive jewellery firm's necklace. I assumed it was for Mary, but after opening it in the operating theatre, when it was clear he was dead, I found it was addressed to Lavinia.^ I thought someone in the family ought to know, I don't know why, it just seemed significant somehow." Cora isn't sure what order her thoughts take then, do they question Matthew's fidelity or do they reach out for Mary first? She isn't sure. So, maybe there had been more to that relationship than the simple friendship Mary had always claimed and she and Robert had been lead to believe. On closer thought though, Cora thought it more likely that Matthew was simply thanking Lavinia for her friendship to Mary and her help with his cancer. Matthew is, or rather was, a very good man and would never have wanted to hurt Mary. He had definitely loved her.

"He was a generous man and Lavinia was a good friend. It is true she had a partiality to him but I don't believe the gift would have been aimed at anything more than friendship on his side, Bertie. I thank you for your confidence though."

"I never thought anything else. I liked Matthew very much but Edith mentioned it to me at some point a while ago and then I saw that necklace this morning and I suppose in the frenzy that it all was, two and two made five." She nods slowly taking another long swirl of her drink. In her head there is still something about it all that doesn't make sense but Bertie is not the person to trouble with that.

What was Matthew doing out this morning? And where was he going that he was taking Lavinia and not Mary?

The dizziness returns again but she takes a step forward back towards the room. She wanted to go home and she can't imagine Mary will want to stay much longer. She stops dead before pushing it open.

Mary is sat on a chair by Matthew and her mouth is moving. She's talking to him as she strokes her hands over his chest, arm and fingers. Cora is overcome with those emotions again and steps back to lean against the wall. How on earth was her daughter going to cope without her beloved Matthew?

* * *

* This is actually true, all men have the same eyes as their maternal grandfather.

^The idea of the joint car crash killing both L and M was half taken from the show, I have been trying to stick to canon mostly in this story but also was influenced by a drama based in the second world war that I watched in the Autumn called Home Fires. In that Samantha Bond's character only finds out her husband has been having an affair (that is not where I am taking this M, L storyline I can assure you) when he dies in a car crash with his mistress. On his person is found some jewellery that was intended as a gift for the lady. When SB opens the box after he is dead she assumes it is for her until she reads the note and she then sets out on a path to discover the truth. She ends up taking in her husband's son by his mistress (she had never had any children) when Liverpool is fatally bombed.

I am sorry for this chapter, I know it is all very sad, but please do review.


	38. Chapter 38

AN: Firstly, sorry for the ever so long delay between updates. Secondly, to everyone who reviewed last time but either never got a reply because I am too busy, or who is a guest and therefore can't be thanked personally, thank you so much for the words of encouragement. Please all of you know everything was read, noted and most of all appreciated.

There are two more chapters after this one which I hope to have up by the end of February. After that I am sensing I will take a hiatus until the summer but never fear, I have a young Cobert story lined up to write ready for next autumn (I just want to have it all written before I post it so not to give you guys long gaps and to keep my stress levels low!). I will stay around reading, of course, as I love reading everyone's ideas. And Cobert are so adorable!

Hope you all had a good festive season. Hope you enjoy this slightly shorter update, but I have grand plans for the next two!

* * *

 _She tucks her head against his shoulder just as she had done on the plane,and just like on the plane his hand falls to her knee and clasps her hand._

 _The darkened streets of London whizz passed just beyond the window of the taxi. There is no Marmaduke to transport them this time._

 _She shudders as a motorcyclist zooms past them, almost jumping a red light in his desperation to get to wherever his destination is. That would have been Marmaduke yesterday. That had been Marmaduke yesterday but it wouldn't be today. Never again._

 _She turns to look at Robert. How close they had come to falling off the rails. Saved only to be knocked down by the loss of Marmaduke. The difference is this time they would fight together._

 _She looks at the way his hair is tucked behind his ear and the slight crinkle of his skin at the corner of his eye, a sign that he smiles a lot. She thinks of how they laugh together. She lets her mind wander back over those early dates when she had been so nervous. She remembers the wide smile he'd use to persuade her on numerous occasions in those early years. She thinks of how he'd used it only this morning when they'd been halfway around the world between the layers of white bedding._

 _She had pushed this man away for months. They had wasted months of the life they both loved so much for a baby boy who was somewhere in heaven all the while begging them to find their way back to each other, why had she not realised that sooner? Why had she not taken a step back and remembered who this man was? He was the man who had given her life. In giving her a job over a decade ago he had rebuilt her life and become her best friend. He was the man she was hopelessly in love with even now, after a decade in the relationship._

 _They had refused to fight for all of that for months. And they might not have months left. Who knew?_

 _Certainly life was not to be taken for granted. She never would do it again. Not now that Rosamund has been stripped of her best friend, her husband, without a backwards glance._

 _"Robert?" He jerks from whatever he had been thinking about, Marmaduke no doubt. "We should let Rosamund live with us for a bit."_

 _"Um, yes."_

 _"Company is better then solitude." He nods, lifting their joined hands from her knee and then promptly dropping her hand, it falls heavily to her leg. He leans forward with a big sigh, covering his face with his hands._

 _"I still can't believe it."_

 _"Me neither. But we must focus on Roz's grief. We can grieve but we must not let it overtake helping her." She pushes her hand up over his back, following the seam of the sleeve at the shoulder, where it has been sewn into the body. "And we should be careful not to upset her any more than necessary." She says the words slowly, hoping he will catch her subtle meaning as she runs her hand along the bare skin at the nape of his neck._

 _"I doubt she can get any more upset. I'm not silly Cora, what do you think I'm going to do? Tell her I didn't like him?" He turns to look at her frowning before shuffling backwards. She drops her hand and pushes it onto his thigh instead._

 _"Of course not. What I meant was when we are together we need to be weary of what she has lost. Particularly if she is living with us, which I still think best. We can not turn her against us by exhibiting behaviour she has lost. What I'm trying to say is we shouldn't be too...cosy. Too happy. It will hurt her." He nods slowly. Before letting out a long sigh._

 _"You're right of course." They sit quietly for a few seconds. Each of them dancing their hand on the other's leg. His fingers twist about on her thigh, almost tickling her. "When are you not right?" He half laughs and she smiles but then lets her mouth drop. Today was not a smiling day. Today was a desperate day which she is eagerly awaiting the end of._

 _She thinks about that kiss this morning. How their mouths had crashed together. She can almost feel the way his fingers had left marks at her waist and the way she had grabbed a whole load of his hair as she'd tugged his mouth to hers. Desperate._

 _A desperation to cling to what they have. To what they had forgotten they have._

 _"When have you not been the very centre of my universe, Cora?" She doesn't dare lift her eyes. It wasn't like him to be sentimental and she doesn't want to spoil it, even if it is badly timed._

 _"Before we met maybe." She whispers it gently and he laughs, closing his fingers ever so tightly around hers. She pushes her thumb over his knuckles, slowly._

 _The car draws to a stop and he strokes her face. Her heart thumps loudly but not because of his closeness. They were home. Which means only that it is time to help Rosamund. He slides towards the door on his side, patting her leg one last time._

 _"And Cora, I will try and behave myself in front of Roz." The door opens and he slips out leaving only a harsh rush of cold air and the sound of heeled shoes on the pavement to awaken her thoughts. Now was the time to be brave. She had a sister to comfort and two young daughters to explain the perils of motorcycle riding to._

 _She slips out into the dark night air, her mother-in-law is waiting on the pavement dressed all in black; a harrowed look behind her eyes. This is not a promising omen of how Rosamund is, nothing fazed Violet. Robert pulls the cases from the boot but when Cora reaches to help Violet takes her hand._

 _"Go inside to Rosamund."_

 _Cora walks up her own front steps. She imagined this scene. Coming home. She'd seen Rosamund stood with the girls each of whom had raced towards her as she's stepped through the door. She'd envisaged telling them all about her trip. She can imagine the blushes she may have made as Rosamund made some underhand remark. And Marmaduke was stood beside her in all those imaginings. Brightening the room with his smile and quick remarks._

 _That isn't the house she enters._

 _There are no bouncing girls greeting her (they had been tucked up in bed long ago). There is no Rosamund with a bright smile._

 _The hall is black, her steps echoing painfully, bouncing off the high ceiling. Elsie stands at the foot of the stairs and welcomes her home. Cora thanks her for her help regarding Venice and then walks to the only slither of light entering the room. The light from beneath the lounge door._

 _That room is dark as well, one singular lamp emitting a dull amber light on one of the low tables. Beside it sits a figure. A small hunched over woman._

 _The hum of the television is more pronounced than her breathing. Rosamund's eyes don't lift to look at her, she keeps her gaze firmly on her lap._

 _"Roz." Cora steps further into the room, dropping her handbag on the chair but not sure where to seat herself. Next to her? Opposite her? She doesn't know what to say either. She just keeps staring at the top of her sister's head, the once marmalade curls looking a shade much nearer to just a dirty autumn leave._

 _She makes a gut decision and lowers herself into the sofa beside her sister. She extends her hand across her lap into her sister's and places her hand on Rosamund's shaking ones. She says nothing but takes comfort in the hard squeeze she's feels against her fingers. Rosamund was finding some kind of comfort in her presence._

 _"I always liked him very much." Their hands stay intwined, Rosamund's gaze still staring at her lap. Cora focuses her gaze there too, as she talks. "He was funny and you and he were suited perfectly. I dearly hope that the memories you have of him will bring you through Roz." She hears a brief sniffle but aside from that, nothing. "You know when he dropped me and Robert to the airport last week he managed to make me smile. He told me if I didn't sort this mess out with Robert he would hold me accountable for any disasters that befell the stock market upon our return. He said his banking would definitely go array because he'd be too busy trying to work out how to bash ours heads together." There is still not so much as a movement from Rosamund. "He reminded me that both of us may have been swept along by unseen forces but as Crawley's we stick together. He was being a Crawley when he told me that Roz, and I will be one now. I will be more than that I hope; your sister. Your friend. We all loved him, nobody more than you."_

 _Still the silence wraps around them. Robert and Violet can be heard in the hall, the scrape of suitcases on the polished floor. Elsie's Scottish accent whispers something at one point and then all is silent._

 _Eventually Rosamund shows a sign of at least being alive as her fingers release Cora's and she pushes her hand away before standing. Her eyes never get anywhere near Cora's._

 _She walks towards the door, stopping just a door away from it. Her black figure is ringed by the slight light coming from the hall. Strands of her hair turning an eerie grey colour in the musty setting._

 _"I didn't love him enough though. Not enough to tell him." Her voice is cloaked with tears, Cora can hear the blockage in her threat that chokes each word._

 _"He knew Rosamund. Never doubt that he knew how much you loved him." She shakes her head, her body still facing away from Cora, her eyes looking down._

 _"You don't understand..." she turns slowly on the spot and her face slowly lifts. Cora takes a very steadying breath as their eyes finally meet. Her make up is smudged beneath her eyes, possibly from this morning. Her lipstick is smeared across her cheek. It's the hollowness of her eyes that Cora can't begin to comprehend. They look as though they have been injected with a pink liquid they are so bloodshot. The white of the eye hardly contrasts with the coloured iris. Cora stands and walks forward with the intention of taking her hand, Rosamund looks like she needs medical attention. She is stopped by the hand Rosamund holds up, with seemingly forced effort, in front of her abdomen as if she is barring Cora from getting any closer. "The doctor came. It's fine."_

 _Cora nods and takes a step away. "Of course that's not the point. He didn't know."_

 _"Roz, trust me. Marmaduke knew you loved him." She shakes her head a fresh wave of tears rushing down her cheeks._

 _"No." Her hands begin to shake, and her soft curls flinch as her head moves from side to side. "No he didn't know all he should have. I didn't tell him. Now...now he's de-ead and he won't know about..."_

 _"He won't know about what?" But her sister is consumed with her tears and races from the room. Leaving behind a single droplet of her red lipstick as a tear from her chin pools onto the piece of carpet._

* * *

Rosamund walks towards her, a picture in black. It was so unfair how little her sister-in-law seemed to age.

Cora swallows that thought as the image from all those years before flashes before her. The droplet of the single tear on the carpet. Cora should have realised. She should have known that Rosamund's statement that night had been cryptic and that, when questioned about it just the next day she had denied any reasoning for it because she was trying to hide a very big secret. But Cora should have seen through that mask. In her grief Rosamund's subconscious had spoken up and Cora should have noted it's importance. She never had of course, but if she had sat back and thought she might have worked it out.

She might have realised Rosamund was pregnant.

She could have saved the last part of Marmaduke for her sister but she hadn't. Instead her nephew's life had passed from the world without her knowledge. Without anyone's knowledge but Rosamund's.

A gloved had slips into hers, breaking her reverie. The ginger curls bob by Rosamund's ears as she leans closer to Cora.

"Mary will be find. She has the Crawley backbone." Cora only nods very gently. Roz didn't have to know her head was miles in the past. It was a good reminder of what they are here for though, and she swings herself slowly around to check Edward is still sat on the pew.

She had thought he was too little to attend a funeral. But Cora figured he was unlikely to remember any of it and in a selfish way she liked him being there. It provided her with a distraction. Mary needed love and comfort but wouldn't take it whereas Edward was quite happy to be cuddled and loved. He was the perfect way for Cora to hold herself to together and feel the value of motherhood despite the fact the daughter that needed her most was turning her away.

She gets drawn out of her thoughts by the hush that falls over the congregation as the last two members of the family step into the church.

Mary had chosen to wear a simple black dress with a small fascinator hat that had a spruce of meshing which flapped across her forehead. By her side, clutching her hand, and looking around the crowd trying to search for a familiar face, is George. His eyes are puffy meaning that at some point that morning he had cried, probably as Mary had forced him into the little suit.

George had been told he wasn't going to see Matthew again. When he'd asked after his 'dada' one night, about a day after the accident, Mary had explained to him and he hadn't asked since. No doubt it would be some time before he understood it all.

George's eyes rest on her and as they step towards the front his hand reaches out for her skirt and he removes his hand from Mary's.

Robert touches her hip as he leans over Edward's fidgeting figure between them.

"Pick him up. He looks like he needs a cuddle." Cora reaches down and scoops George onto her hip. Mary doesn't even acknowledge her. She stands in the centre of the aisle, refusing to take her seat even when the reverend asks. Instead she stares straight ahead, unmoving, at the coffin in front of her.

At this picture of Matthew that stands on the top.

George plays with Cora's necklace, his chubby fingers gracing over her bare skin. His innocent blue eyes darting up to check her features when he thinks he might have pressed or pulled too hard.

Edward still fidgets by her feet but she can hear Robert gently whispering to him on occasion and smoothing his hand on Edward's collar to get him to quieten.

Mary doesn't move until it is time for her to step up and make her little speech.

She walks up the into the pulpit, her eyes lifting to focus on the congregation. Cora can see that the don't truly focus. Her eyes move over the group but she doesn't see anyone in front of her.

"I was never a woman fortunate enough to marry hoping and believing that the words 'until death do us part' referred to a time when I was surrounded by grandchildren. Cancer has always been a horrid word, tainted by images of death and grief, Matthew's case was no different except it wasn't tainted, it was the final image. I did hope it would come at a time when I was surrounded by our children. But alas, like many things, god granted that George was to be the only child Matthew and I had before his treatments rendered his future childless." She takes a long steadying breath but all Cora can focus on is how detached from it all her daughter is. Mary might not be holding back tears as she talked but she was so detached from what she was saying she sounded like the woman who tells you how many voicemail messages you have. She was so completely overtaken by her grief and yet she hadn't shown it since the day she had found out and fallen into Cora's arms in the hallway. Cora knew that at some point she was just going to crack and her anger at life was just going to come bursting forth. She hoped it was soon.

"We talked about death of course. About how it was going to be. The plan was for me to be with Matthew, beside him as his last moments of life left him. He wanted to be surrounded by love in his pain and I wanted to be there. But as ever, that privilege has been taken from us too. Instead I sat in a morgue beside his lifeless corpse and told him a thousand things he could no longer hear. It should have upset me, being robbed of my last farewell but in truth something far better was granted to me. Matthew died in far, far less pain than he would have if he had lived to die from the brain tumour. For that I am happy to forgo my last words to him, after all he knew how much I loved him." She readjusts her hands on the podium before speaking again. "I would like to extend my support to Lavinia Swire's family and friends. She was a bright young woman who was striving to improve care for cancer patients. I did not just lose Matthew to the car crash but also a very dear friend in Lavinia. With her loss the world has also lost her pure optimism. I know Matthew would join me in saying she has made the last few months better. God bless her."

Cora watches as Mary finally rests her eyes on something. She focuses her attention on George who is still cradled on her knee. She seems distracted by George being there as if he is holding her mouth still, hesitating over her next words. She finally shifts her gaze to the coffin.

She talks on about grief, love and family but Cora is lost with thoughts of Lavinia. What had that gift meant?

Bertie had since given her the necklace and note he'd found on Matthew's person. Cora had kept them safely hidden in her room. It wasn't like her to be secretive but there was something about it all that didn't hang together. Where had Matthew and Lavinia been going that morning? And why did the note inside the box clearly address the gift to Lavinia with much love?

There's a splattering of murmuring around her which brings her back to the present. Mary had finished talking and the service was moving forward. Mary takes a seat this time, much to Cora's relieve and she lifts George onto her lap.

"I saw you tune out after I talked about Lavinia. Is there something you're not telling me?" Mary speaks under her breath between gritted teeth. Cora is at first taken aback that her daughter had noticed such a thing, wasn't she the one that had been stood in a complete daze?

Cora swallows hard, studying the lace overlay of her sleeve. Now was hardly the right time to tell her daughter that she thought her late husband had been having an affair. And yet, how could she not? How could she keep such a thing from her when she can feel Mary's hard brown eyes boring into the side of her neck. Matthew's photograph seems to stare only at her as she looks up, as if guessing that she is about to ruin the whole solace his memory might give to Mary. His eyes seem so sad as she keeps looking at him, begging for her to keep silent like a puppy might beg for food.

She swallows again and then pushes her hand towards Mary's knee.

"Not now. Later." She wonders how the words pass through her vocal cords which seem completely surrounded by a lump of sticky saliva.

"He's dead Mama. There can't be anything worse to leave behind in this church than his dead body." Her words are bitter and hissed between gritted teeth. Cora is spared a reply by the striking notes of the organ. They stand for a hymn, both her son and her grandson playing at her skirt as she tries to focus on the words before her. Mary doesn't utter one word of the song, her eyes fixed on the top of George's head. Cora doesn't dare lift her eyes as they sit again.

Her heart hammers stupidly hard against her ribs. What can she say? What lie can she fabricate that will spare Mary?

The reverend calls them into pray and Cora drops her head, pleased with an excuse that gives her eyes no reason to drift unwillingly towards Mary.

The service ends and Mary stands, George clutching at her hand once again as they follow Matthew's coffin from the church. Outside they drift to the burial site. As they stand looking at the hole, Edward trying to struggle from his father's arms to investigate, Mary adjusts her position.

"There is time now Mama. Surely what is troubling you won't take more than a minute to tell?"

"It will hurt you. Today is not the day for that."

"Nothing hurts more than today. I doubt there is anything that will send me further into the abyss I am in. I surpassed the bottom of it long ago." She utters each word with no more emotion than one might use to recite a shopping list.

Cora watches at the coffin is lowered and positioned in preparation for its descent. She watches the reverend checking his notes; collecting his thoughts. She wonders over the afterlife and heaven for a millisecond. Was this the right moment, with Matthew's body before them, still on their earth to tell Mary she thought he had been unfaithful? Would it help her own aching heart if she thought that Matthew had heard her? That he had been found out? Would that make a difference to her conscience on the matter?

"A necklace was found on Matthew's person when he arrived at the hospital. It was in a box, addressed to-"

"Lavinia." Cora had anticipated the word coming from her mouth in a small, breathy gasp. Instead, the name of her late friend is uttered from Mary just like any other word she has spoken all day.

"Mary I know we can't be sure what it means but you must know I will-"

"It was me that had brought the necklace for Lavinia. I asked Matthew to write the label and give it to her that morning. I wish she had seen it. I know how much she would have loved it." Cora doesn't have a chance to sigh in relief, or in fact to say anything before Mary's hand flies to her mouth to cover the strangled sound of pain that erupts from her. Cora doesn't hesitate in lifting George onto her hip and hugging Mary close.

As Mary cries, George looks at her bemused and Edward shuffles his way between his mother and his eldest sister clinging to their legs. She feels Robert take a step closer behind her and press a hand to the small of her back. Family would see them through. They are stronger when they stick together.

* * *

Robert finds them by the penguins enclosure. He stands back to admire them all for a second. Edward jumping by the fence and laughing as each penguin dives into the water after the fish. Cora is dressed elegantly in a red coat stood by his side, holding Marigold's hand and occasionally leaning down so she can hear what she is saying. Bertie and Edith stand arm-in-arm not too far away, their eyes locked on each other rather than those around them. The people he is most interested to observe stand directly in his path. Sybil's hat is being tugged down over her head by Tom, who leans over and kisses her nose. He proceeds to whisper something which makes Sybil laugh out loud.

Robert feels a harsh sense of deja-vu, that was the exact way he and Cora had been when they had got over the awkwardness of her past and his rather public presence. In fact, kissing Cora's nose was something he still liked to tease her with now.

He slips passed Sybil and Tom unseen, approaching Cora. Her hair is loose down her back, escaping from the wool of her winter hat. She's chatting softly to Marigold as she bends over. Edward seems to realise his mother isn't paying him any attention and turns to her. Robert knows the exact moment Edward spots him because he jumps towards his legs with a scream of 'Papa.'

Cora looks up with her eyes wide, while her cheeks shift to accommodate her smile.

"Robert! What on earth are you doing here?" He leans forward and kisses her cheek as she stands to his height. A small laugh playing on his lips.

"Well, my wife was all giddy in bed this morning about how she was taking the family to the zoo and I couldn't bring myself to miss it, so I finished my work as quickly as I could manage and rearranged a load of meetings to join you all." She rolls her eyes but seems genuinely thrilled, pushing her gloved hand into his.

"That's lovely." Before they have a chance to say anything else Edward is tugging him to the fence.

"Look Papa...penguins." Edward chatters away about the way they keep jumping into the water after the fish and he then mimics the lions he had seen early, pulling his hair from the sides of his head to try and make a mane.

Robert stops listening after a minute or so, turning his head around slightly to see what Tom was making of his appearance. Sybil is talking animatedly to Edith about something, her hand still resting in Tom's. But her boyfriend's gaze is trained completely on him where he is crouched with Edward.

Robert turns his attention back to Edward. He and Cora clearly needed to discuss Tom again. If Cora had let him come on this family trip she had obviously softened towards the man who had almost succeeded in persuading their daughter to run away.

"How about the elephants now Marigold?" Bertie comes over and crouches down next to the little girl he had agreed to become the adopted father for. Robert had been very pleased that Marigold had taken so easily to Bertie. In him he saw a man that not only made his daughter and grandchild happy but one that was a fine addition to the family and would hopefully cause him and Cora little reason to worry.

"Yes. Edward come on." Marigold reaches for Edward's hand (it was strange to think he was her uncle) and taking Bertie's they all race off with Edith laughing in their wake.

He takes Cora's hand and lifts it to rest on his elbow. Her fluffy gloves make him smile, he always thought Cora looked her most glamorous in the winter with her fine array of soft scarves, coats, gloves and hats.

"I was worried when they said they were getting married. It was so soon, particularly with all that happened with Michael but the more I see Bertie the more I'm convinced Edith will be fine." Cora nods in agreement. Robert can tell she's watching him surreptitiously but Robert keeps his ears open to the conversation his youngest daughter is having with her boyfriend.

 _"Tom of course he doesn't hate you."_

 _"He does Sybil. Ever since that day I went to see him at his office he's never looked me in the eye but to scowl. He thinks I'm a bad influence on you."_

 _"Well he's wrong. And I'll persuade him so. I've picked university's now and applied to start next year. I think I'm most likely to stay in London anyway so he can't stop you visiting me or even us sharing a flat."_ Robert finds himself looking down at Cora's hand resting on his elbow. Would he have wanted to be thwarted by her parents when he had first taken a liking to Cora?

He tries to reason that this is different. That the age of Sybil and her position in life is so much more vulnerable than Cora's had been. But he realises that he cannot argue that. Cora's spirit had been lost all those years ago, she hadn't known where she was in her life, or what she might want. Sybil on the other hand was clearly in control of her emotions and knew what she wanted and Robert knew his daughter well enough to know that means he has no chance of winning.

"You've made a decision about Sybil?" Cora's voice is calm by his side, a whisper against his neck. Before he has a chance to reply she smiles widely at him. "I am pleased."

"You have made yours as well then?" She sighs softly, just as he feels like doing. It seems they had both decided to admit defeat.

"I think so. The thing is, as she is hoping to go to university here in London if things don't work out with Tom she can just come and live at home again. I know it's hard Robert but-"

"I would disagree. It was hard. But looking at them now, and thinking about how we were I think I would be fighting like Tom. Besides, Sybil is never going to give in. But thinking above and beyond that we won't stop her seeing him if she stays in London. So I might as well bite the bullet!"

"Would you have fought like Tom?" Her gaze is quizzical, and her eyes slightly damp with the suggestion that he had loved her more than she had known.

"Of course. Things were different for us of course. You were fragile. But if things had been different, more fast-paced, I imagine there would have quickly come a time when we were suggesting things our parents didn't agree with." She smiles and lowers her head to rest against his shoulder as they draw up behind Bertie and Edith at the elephant enclosure.

"Robert, are you going to tell Sybil and Tom or am I?"

"I think it should be me. After all, Tom and I have quite a few bridges to rebuild after we fought so hard. I'll do it before we go home, I can still feel his eyes eating into my back. Poor man, he's waiting for me to turn around and pounce on him, I can tell." Robert watches her as she tries to subtly glance over his shoulder to look at Tom. By the way her head whips back around so quickly he guesses she was spotted. She laughs rather loudly.

"You're right. His eyes are fixed on you. Sybil is talking to him but I can tell he isn't listening to a word. Isn't it nice, to have someone so scared of you? So worried about what you think?" He takes her hand from his elbow and picks up her other one from her side. Holding them in front of him he leans to her ear with a silly grin on his face.

"I don't need to have Tom worrying about what I think and trying to earn my good opinion. I already have a very obliging wife who, still after all these years, is always insistent we do things just how I would like. Trust me darling, that boosts my pride quite enough." He looks up to find her eyebrows raised higher than ever and a wicked grin on her face—one side raised slightly higher than the other.

"You keep thinking that darling, by all means." Before he has a chance to do anything more than wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her against his chest, Edward is pestering about being lifted up so he can see better. Cora steps forward to take him as he complains in Bertie's arms.

Robert pushes his hands into his pockets. And turns on his heel towards Tom and Sybil before he can change his mind.

He doesn't need to clear his throat, or make any kind of attempt at gathering their attention as Tom is staring right at him, his hand gripping Sybil's harder and harder the closer Robert gets.

"I'm pleased you're both here today."

"Papa really, if you're going to try and stop me from-"

"Sybil, just let me finish. You will like what I have to say, I promise." She purses her lips seemingly completely convinced that she won't be but he takes her hand, preparing to direct his words at Tom. All he needs is a quick glance to his left at the last second, to see Cora stood giggling with Edward, to give him the reassurance he needs.


	39. Chapter 39

AN: So, the update is late, I think you were probably all expecting that! I am quite happy with most of it (not keen on the last section). The next chapter (the last one) will be up when it is done, but I do have a clear vision for it so it should be easier than the last few have been, fingers crossed!

I would like to thank all the wonderful people, who have been leaving me messages and reviews asking when I will update. In the last week particularly, they have really pushed me back into writing. My next story has also been progressing thanks to the same messages. I write for you guys, and Cobert, because they are the best!

Hope you enjoy, please leave a review.

* * *

The pressure on her abdomen is intense. It bangs against her ribs and then disappears, only to descend less than a second later in the same place. Even in her half asleep state she can tell it's an external force, this isn't her own body complaining. There is a lighter pressure on her chest, in the shape of tiny hands.

"Edward, stop!" Her hands move to catch his sides as he lands on her again. She opens her tired eyes and glances at the clock which reads an unearthly seven. Not that seven was really that bad, but when she hadn't even entered her bedroom until three she definitely craved more sleep.

"Santa came Mama." She rubs the back of her hand across her eyes. Yes, he had. Or rather she had, slaving away until that early hour. She'd forgotten how tiring Christmas Eve was with children. Her girls had grown out of it all long ago.

"Did he?" He nods his head excitedly.

"Dada says once you came I can open them." She turns her head to the left for the first time since she awoke and finds the bed perfectly made, and empty.

"Did he tell you to come and wake me though Edward?" His gaze drops sheepishly and he pushes his bottom lip out before shaking his head very slowly.

"Sorwe." He moves to shuffle off her tummy but she grabs his securely and lifts him above her.

"It doesn't matter Edward, it's Christmas!" She lowers him back to the bed. As he lands, and the mattress springs about he laughs. She slides from the bed before he can readjust himself into a sitting position. She finds her dressing gown already laid out on the bottom of the bed (no doubt courtesy of Robert) and slips it on.

She doesn't need to prompt Edward to come, he slips from the bed and runs past her to the door.

She blinks her eyes over and over as they walk along the landing, Edward calling about 'big presents and little presents.' She stifles a yawn behind her hand at the top of the stairs. Edward goes silent as he focuses on negotiating the steps.

Six months ago he would have wanted her to stand in front of him as he descended the stairs but since he'd turned two just nine days ago that preference had vanished. He chirped on the morning of the sixteenth that 'you can stay behind Mama. I got it now.' That was one sure way to feel completely rejected.

When they reach the bottom Cora curses in her head, why had she not slipped her slippers on? The hall floor was always cold and, of course, with it being December everything was five times colder. The comfort of carpets was only for the bedrooms, landing and lounges. Because her feet are so cold though, she does manage to keep up with Edward's very fast scamper across the hallway to the lounge.

The room is in darkness, Edward isn't tall enough to reach the light switch. It does make her wonder where Robert is though, surely he wasn't hiding out in the cold kitchen. As if he can hear her thoughts, a warm tickling breath by her ear is accompanied by a little chuckle.

"Morning. Merry Christmas." He hands her a mug of warm hot chocolate. "Thought you might like this." He moves passed her towards the settee. She sits down next to him as Edward pulls his stocking across the floor and sits cross-legged beside it. His hand is already snaking inside the top and crackling paper when Robert pulls her gently towards him on the settee. He kisses the side of her head. "You look shattered."

"I am. I didn't get to bed until after three. But it doesn't matter. Look at him." Cora feels her eyes filling with water as Edward races from one gift to the next, pulling paper apart and scattering ribbon.

"It does matter Cora. I would have stayed up. When you sent me up at midnight you said you would be right behind. Three hours is not right behind." His voice is so quiet against her skin. He was annoyed she knew (she hadn't meant to let it slip like that) but the truth of the matter was she'd not wanted them both to be worn out. There was nothing they could do about it now anyway.

"Maybe not. But let's forget it. Oh, and Merry Christmas darling." He chuckles throatily against her forehead as he kisses her there. She lifts her eyes to his and unwillingly moves one of her hands from the steaming mug to take his. "Is that all the kiss I'm going to get?" He rolls his eyes.

"When did you become so demanding?" She giggles softly, only to be cut off by his lips meeting hers. Her fingers reflexively clasp the mug tighter so not to spill it on her lap. He moves to pulls away but she only lets him have half a breath before she leans back towards him.

"You can do better than that."

"Maybe but Edward-" She cuts him off. She wasn't sure what it was that made her so desperate to have him kiss her properly. But there it was. No doubt it was just it being Christmas. As Sybil had grown older and their eldest two girls had left home they had got used to having Christmas morning to themselves. Peaceful and quiet. Despite Edward's presence she didn't want to lose that. After all, by the time Edward reached adulthood, they really wouldn't be young anymore.

The hand that isn't steadying her mug of cocoa is insistent in finding its way onto his thigh as she lets her tongue brazenly explore his mouth. He tries to resist her, she can tell, but she pushes most insistently until she feels him relax into the kiss.

"Mama, Papa. Stop kissy kiss! Look!" They break apart and Cora immediately steadies Edward's hand from banging on her knee; that was a sure way to knock the drink into her lap. Robert gives her the look 'I told you we shouldn't' as Edward points at the biggest present under the Christmas tree. "It's says from Santa. Can I open it?"

"Of course sweetheart but let Daddy help you move it first." Robert places his mug on the nearby coffee table and stands. She watches with amusement as Edward follows him across the room and 'helps' Robert to lift the box by holding the side once it's safely in the air. Robert takes the few steps back to the rug as quarter steps so Edward at least thinks he is helping. Cora has to cover her mouth with her hand to stifle the giggle that she knows would upset Edward, as his little tongue bobs in and out his mouth in concentration.

The minute it is laid on the floor Edward grabs at the edges of the paper. She briefly wondered why she had stayed up so late wrapping everything so meticulously when he was just going to do that.

"Mama look, 'omas."

"Yes, your very own Thomas the Tank Engine." Edward points at the boy on the box who is sat on this very ingenious Thomas the Tank Engine. Cora had seen it online, being sold by a previous owner. It was like the sit in cars that you frequently found in toy shops for little children. It is smaller than those, and the little seat is set back from the steering wheel and the seat (which was the feature Cora knew Edward would love) opens up to reveal a little place to stow his little toys. The final novelty was that it is Thomas the Tank, Edward's favourite.

Once out of the box Robert has to gently coax Edward off (he seems determined that he can ride it about before the steering wheel or seat are fitted. Cora laughs when Robert is twisting the black seat panel about trying to work out how it clips into the little holes on the blue plastic and after failing to get it to work twice Edward takes the piece from his father and places it the right way around and pushes, it clicks into place. Robert looks up to her creased over in laughter, his cheeks a rose shade of pink.

"It was a test for Edward, I thought he might work it out, and he did."

"Of course, darling, whatever you say." Less then ten minutes later the ride on Thomas is finished and Edward races straight across the carpet out onto the tiled hall floor. Cora groans at the sound of plastic on tiles (that really was going to get irritating) but she has to smile at Edward's enjoyment and the frequent 'choo, choo' he keeps calling out.

When she glances at the clock and sees the big hand heading for eight she sighs. Resting time is over. She has a dinner to prepare.

"I better go prep some of the food. The turkey ought to go in at nine and I want everything else done so I can actually sit down when they others arrive." She slowly pulls herself up off the settee.

"I wouldn't waste the trip to the kitchen if I was you. I did it all before you got up." He speaks quietly from the sofa where he is finishing off his cocoa.

"What time did Edward wake!?"

"Only about six fifteen. He sat in the kitchen munching some breakfast while I did all the vegetables and stuffing. He helped me wrap the bacon around the sausages but then he starting murmuring about presents and I couldn't keep him from you. Of course, if I'd known you hadn't got to bed until three, I would have given him one of our other presents to open so you could sleep. But I did not and so, at seven, I said he could go and wake you."

"Thank you." She settles back against him on the settee. Robert always helped with Christmas dinner it was true. But she couldn't remember the last time he'd basically done all of it. It wasn't that he'd never offered, she had just always felt Christmas was a break for him from work, and as it was his family that always came for Christmas he should be the one 'entertaining' while she cooked. That decision wasn't based on her dislike for her in-laws but because, as a housewife she actually saw a lot more of Robert's family than he did because they were all so eager to see the children.

"It was partly for selfish reasoning too. I wanted to have a couple of hours to ourselves in the relative quiet before the others arrive. Sybil will get up at nine and can look after Edward while we sit for a while in our little sitting room. There's something in there I want to give to you without the others."

"My my, you are full of surprises today. I'm not sure telling me such a thing an hour before the event is a good idea. You've got me all nervous and fidgety."

"It's nothing to worry about." She curls her feet up underneath her and turns to lie against his side. She feels the smile creeping up onto her face before she has completely finished processing her thoughts.

"That depends, if you're planning something risqué you can forget it." He chuckles against her hair and then wraps an arm around her side to rest on her stomach.

"Well, I wasn't...but now you mention it..." He chortles softly against her hair. She just smiles. The vibrations calm her and she relaxes further against him, letting her eyes drift closed.

When she opens her eyes next she's knows instinctively she's slept too long. There is a hum of noise there hadn't been before. She realises quite quickly it's the distinct sound of whispered chatter. Except it's not whispered, it's simply muted by the closed door.

She can depict the sounds of more children that just Edward playing in the hallway so Edith, Bertie and Mary (at least) had arrived, putting the time after half past ten. Robert has disappeared from beside her, replacing his arm with a cushion.

She's about to stand up to go upstairs to change when she spots the note resting on the arm of the chair with her phone beside it.

 _Text me when you wake. I'll meet you in our sitting room._

She smiles. Trust Robert to think up something sneaky. She can enter their sitting room without having to step into the hall and face all the others, by passing through the door from the living room.

With a certain amount of trepidation she writes him a text and heads towards the other room. His message had reminded her of his words before she'd fallen to sleep. It still worried her slightly that Robert had some Fifty Shades of Grey style entrapment waiting for her. However much she knows how unlikely it is that he would even have thought of such an idea, let alone actually gone through with it, doesn't stop her mind from conjuring up images of things that she wouldn't even want Robert to do to her.

She's knows she's being silly. It was probably just some nightdress or underwear he'd purchased but then she doubts herself again, after all, he had never gone to this much effort to make something 'special' usually he just gave her those kind of presents in the evening.

The first thing she notes in the study is a lack of any items that would suggest Robert was up to something he didn't want to give her prior warning about. The only objects out of place are a couple of her own items.

The red dress she's selected for today is hanging on the back of the door leading to the hall. Her hairbrush, make up and jewels lie on the desk with another note.

 _Get changed and text me when you're done. Then sit out of the view of the door._

It takes her fifteen minutes to change (far longer than was necessary), the directness of Robert's message leaving her heart thumping and her hands trembling - hardly helpful for fastening necklaces. She has to retype the text twice before she gets the words she wants.

She retreats to the window and looks out onto the damp streets. She tries to calm her stupid nerves with solid reasoning. Robert knows her and she knew him. If he wanted to try something new he would have asked her, not gone behind her back, and certainly not chosen Christmas Day.

"You look very pretty." His words make her jump from her thoughts. She'd been so busy trying to calm herself she'd missed the door opening.

"Thank you." She pushes her palms down over the front of her dress, pretending to smooth it. He steps around the desk and she feels herself cornered. "Robert-" she hears the crack in her voice, what on earth had got into her? She knows the answer to that, all that business with Simon over two years ago had made her sceptical again. His feels his hand lift one of hers from her skirt while the other opens his desk drawer.

"You look like the world is ending Cora. I'm not going to tie you up, seduce you, take your dress off. Nothing. I promise. I'm just going to give you an envelope with your Christmas card and one of your presents enclosed in it." She wonders at him sensing her emotions so easily. "And before I ask how I knew; I know you Cora and most of the time I can read you easier than a book." She takes the envelope with a nod. "Happy Christmas."

He leans over and kisses her forehead, one arm around her back. She looks down at her name written on the white paper. The swirls of his writing and the watery ink that came from his fountain pen rather than a common biro (Robert always liked to be smart, just a touch more classy than everyone else).

She pushes her nail under the point where Robert had drawn a little heart on the seam to reveal a beautiful card 'for my beautiful wife at Christmas.' There is a large amount of red glitter surrounding two little bears hugging each other in front of a Christmas tree. She flicks the card open, placing the envelope on his desk.

She feels Robert stiffen beside her as her fingers pick up the second, unmarked envelope, inside. He drops his head, so his forehead rests on her hair and look down to the envelope she is slowly opening between their two bodies. She assumes they are tickets of some description and is expecting the arty designs of the opera house or theatre. Instead she finds the annoying barcodes of two travel tickets. Pulling them further from the envelope she takes less than a minute to locate the destination.

"Athens?"

"Our yacht is in Piraeus, just a short taxi drive away." She feels the grin in his words. He kisses her forehead again. She takes a look at the second ticket, which is for her return journey and compares the dates.

"Four weeks! Robert, how are you getting that many weeks off?"

"It is my business and Bates is very capable. And before you realise the next problem, which is of course leaving Edward for four whole weeks-"

"Yes that's not-" he places a finger on her lips.

"All our children, grandchildren, Bertie and Rosamund are joining us for the second two weeks. Everyone has already arranged work schedules."

"Will that many people fit on the yacht?"

"Cora, it is a large yacht! There are five double rooms and one single. The single room will fit all three little ones. The rooms are small of course, typical cabins. What I want to know is whether you're excited?" She pushes the tickets back into the envelope and places it on the desk. She reaches up to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Of course I'm happy, darling. We have already had to delay this trip once."

"Good. Now-" Before he can finish the door bursts open to Edward sitting on his new Thomas.

"Granny's here! She's fussing already." Edward shouts his announcement across the room, a cheeky grin on his face. He knew full well he'd just repeated a phrase he'd heard his parents say but wasn't suppose to repeat when Granny could hear.

* * *

Robert lets his eyes wander around the room. It was not often at a wedding that a moment of peace and tranquility can be found. But he has found one and he is going to make the most of it at the very least until Cora comes in search of him.

This wedding, more than Mary's, reminded him of his own. It was true to say that perhaps Cora had looked a little more like Mary than Edith but his thought process went deeper than that. The last few years of Edith's life reminded him of Cora. Her whole life had fallen over a cliff and yet, much like Cora, in this very hall she'd beamed brighter than she ever had before, in a white dress at her wedding reception. It was true that Cora had not lifted her young daughter into her arms the moment she was out the car and no such daughter had followed Cora down the aisle as Marigold had done today. But the journey was still similar; marriage to a titled man and all.

However, his thoughts are more actively concerned with the other people in the room. Edith's more recent dramas, in fact the drama of the last few years of his life and those around him, had all started with that cruise three years ago.

Mary had finally become engaged to Matthew; a story now that seemed to have gone full circle. His eyes seek her out now, she was still grieving it was true, despite the festivities. She stands at the base of the grand red velvet staircase watching as Marigold, Edward and George hold hands and dance around in a circle. She'd opted for the bygone Victorian tradition of wearing black through her mourning but had (with great reluctance) worn navy to today's event. She smiles nonetheless at her son, niece and brother as they gather Edith and Bertie to their circle and spin faster and faster.

He can still see the shrouded darkness in her eyes, even from this distance. Sybil joins the circular fray, as does Cora, but despite them calling for her she shakes her head.

Robert lets himself be pulled in by Cora's sideways smile. He fills the gap Cora makes between herself and Marigold. They laugh together as the children try to coax them into a faster pace but Edith reminds them her dress won't take it.

"You should have gone for less of a train then, my dear." Bertie calls over the top of the music.

"I should remind you I'm your wife now! I'd hold your tongue otherwise you're in the corner!" Bertie smiles back at her playfully. They were definitely going to be fine.

Edward decides they should all kick one foot out together, towards the centre of the circle. That almost foxes Robert's balance which gets a large laugh from Cora.

"You waltz like a prince but can't can-can. Adorable!" The music finishes and the band begin a wave of applause that runs around the room. Bertie and Edith fall into each other's arms laughing before Edith pulls him to her for a kiss. A loud wolf whistle erupts from Sybil's mouth while Cora grabs his hand and the two of them, along with Edward and Marigold move off the floor.

"That was fun." She's looking up at him, her eyes shining. He doesn't have a chance to reply before Marigold asks Cora to show her to the toilet and Edward decides he'd like to use his potty. He's left standing awkwardly as they cross the room to head upstairs.

His gaze turns to where it had been interrupted before; Mary. Or it would, if he could spot her. George was currently being championed about the dance floor by Sybil who is attempting all kinds of very amusing lifts with him. It takes him longer than it should to spot Mary because he has failed to realise she is stood a few feet behind him, in the doorway to the library.

He turns to towards her when a younger, handsome gentleman walks right up to her. Robert recognises him, even from behind, instantly. There was no mistaking that perfectly combed dark brown hair and his height. He was one of Bertie's friends that Robert had met when he'd gone to Brancaster. Robert vaguely remembers the link being tenuous, he was the son of Bertie's father's friend or something. But since Bertie had reestablished himself in the north they'd become close again. Robert is frantically searching his head for his name when the man himself saves him.

 _"Lady Mary I presume. Sister of the bride?"_

 _"You presume right. Although I'm not sure about the lady part."_

 _"I'm Henry. Henry Talbot a friend of the groom."_ Robert knows he shouldn't eavesdrop but this was possibly the first person Mary had interacted with all evening who wasn't a blood relation. Everyone else she might know has sort of avoided her. Not intentionally Robert knew, they were just trying to give her space. By the way Henry is talking, he seems unaware of her loss.

" _I hardly think you need to tell me you're a 'friend' of the groom. Seeing as you're definitely not one of my sister's guests, and I know Bertie's intimate family I can deduce you're a friend."_

 _"Miss Sherlock are we?"_ Robert himself was highly amused, if he wasn't wrong that had sounded awfully like Mary flirting for a brief second. But she looks down now, twisting her wedding ring around on her finger.

 _"Mrs actually."_

 _"Oh, I'm very sorry. I didn't realise you were married. You must introduce me to the man lucky enough to have claimed you. Where is he? Is that him dancing with Edith?"_ Robert closes his eyes, wondering whether he should intervene.

 _"No. He's not here."_

 _"Ahhh I see, he's busy flying the world and earning millions. So much so he couldn't even have New Year's Eve off!"_ Henry laughs softly only stopping when he gets no reply from Mary. Robert bites his lip.

 _"No."_ Her hands run over each other, it looks as if she's trying to break the skin with the friction she generates. _"I'm a widow."_ He sees the single tear falling into her hands before Henry does. Robert has reached her before Henry has placed his glass down.

"Mary." He takes her hands and wraps his between her two as they shake. He can hear Henry muttering apologies beside them, his hand raking through his hair. He hands her his handkerchief and lets her daub her eyes as he steers her into the library.

"It's alright. I'm okay." Robert doesn't believe her, but he knows Mary so he lets go of her as she pushes at his hands. Henry stands a few feet behind them.

"Lady Mary, I know it makes no difference but I'm truly sorry. If I'd known I would never had said anything."

"Mr Talbot I'm not sure-" Mary cuts him off, as she hands him back his handkerchief and makes to move towards the door.

"It's alright, Papa. It's not your fault Mr Talbot, you weren't to know." She passes the young man and slips back into the hall filled with music, nobody would know she'd been crying.

Mr Talbot keeps his eyes fixed on the ground, one of his hands massaging his forehead.

"If it's any comfort Sir, you haven't truly heart my daughter's feelings. Just resurrected memories. She thinks she is infallible to grief and emotion. She is not. She dislikes to be reminded that she is only human."

"It's not any comfort Mr Crawley. But I thank you for the sentiment." Robert moves back into the hall then, Cora would be back from the toilet with the children soon and she will notice him missing.

Sure enough, she's descending the stairs clutching the much smaller hands belonging to Edward and Marigold on either side. She's not looking about the room yet, completely engrossed in making sure they don't trip.

Robert takes a second to take it all in. The lilac dress that didn't make her stand out, the way Martha managed to do at every event, but does make her look beautiful enough as mother of the bride, without being of greater significance than Edith.

In February they will have been married twenty-eight years and he is more proud of her with every day that passes. She was balancing being a mother and grandmother with ease. Not only that but he was amazed with her success of the charity and she had recently hinted at possibly doing an open university course and maybe putting in some hours at some of the art galleries. In terms of the charity she, Sophie and Phyllis wanted to extend their work to helping healthcare professionals deal with rape victims and those domestically abused. They hoped to visit victims in a hospital in the city in January and decide how it would be best to start integrating the ideas they promote into the healthcare programme.

Marigold and Edward race over to Sybil, demanding there turns to be twirled in the air. Cora slips her way around the dance floor, her eyes twinkling in his direction most of the time.

"Are you going to do that open university course?"

"That a blunt opening to a conversation Robert." She hands him the drink she'd picked up from the tray. "I'm thinking about it. I think I might start it next September. Edward will be much bigger and we will have had this holiday you've planned everything for. Besides there are big plans for the charity to sort at the moment." He takes the drink from her hand as the band start up a waltz.

"Would you care for a dance?"

"Not if you go so crazy we drive everyone else from the floor. Try and withhold your astounding ability." She takes his hand regardless and he ushers her onto the floor. She wasn't going to win this one, after all it takes two to waltz properly. In Cora he'd found the perfect partner that day at the work ball. Little had he known that a woman who could waltz would be the way to his heart. He'd always hated the stupid old-fashioned dance his parents had forced him to learn in the hall of their home. He'd never thought it would be of any use to him.

Swirling around and remembering the origins of his dancing makes him think about Rosamund who had so often been his partner to help him learn the steps as a boy.

There was one dance in her past that Robert could remember as being a turning point for her. It was odd to think something they had both laughed about and scorned had actually been key to both their lives.

* * *

 _"Cora are you ready? We're going to be late!" He chances another look at his watch. He doesn't know why, they are already late, looking wont make any difference, and yet, Cora is still not at the top of the stairs._

 _"Oh Robby do stop fretting." His sister emerges out the living room door a cheeky grin on her face._

 _"Please don't call me that." Robby was a childhood nickname Rosamund had used when in her opinion, he was being silly._

 _"Well, you're being silly. We're not going to be late. You know Branson, he knows all the back ways, particularly to the annual business ball." Rosamund takes her coat from the hook and swings it on over her dark green dress. It had been years since Rosamund had attended the annual ball. The last time was before Robert's own marriage when his father had been boss. But tonight she was coming. It seemed odd to attend now that Marmaduke was dead but Cora has cautioned him over such thoughts. Maybe that was why, she had explained. Rosamund had decided after a year of struggling with life it was time to move forward and the ball was a symbol of her childhood. She wanted a fresh start._

 _He taps his feet across the floor again, not content with Rosamund's reassurance. He notes that she looks tired, but when hasn't she since Marmaduke died? She has been filling her time to the best of her ability, working all week and then volunteering in charity shops at the weekend. Weekends she couldn't find work she'd send him and Cora out the door and look after Mary and Edith all day. No day was left unfilled. Robert knew it was her way of trying to conquer her grief and judging by the slow steps of improvement, it was working. She doesn't cry everyday any more, or need constant distractions as she had before._

 _"Cora! Please come-" He stops. His jaw falling slack as she finally appears on the top step. Rosamund pinches his arm as she steps around him towards the door._

 _"Close your mouth."_

 _She's wearing a black, strapless dress which drops to just above her knees. It's longer at the back, dipping to the lower side of her knees. She has matched the dress with a stunning pair of tangerine heels and matching bag. If he'd been told about the shoes and the dress together he'd have screamed disaster but as it is Cora pulls it off excellently. Not that that's a surprise in itself, Cora always looks gorgeous._

 _"You look radiant my dear." She slips her hand into his._

 _"Thank you." She dips her face with a smile and she walks passed him to the door. When she reaches it she turns to look at him over her shoulder, a little grin threatening to form. "You were saying something about being late Robert, and now you're loitering."_

 _"Right. Yes. Sorry." He runs his hand through his hair as he reaches for his scarf._

 _"I'm delighted I can still distract you." She takes his hand as they step through the door. He locks it behind him and they descend the stairs together._

 _The company ball had always been a hassle. It was the day in the year he dreaded the most before he'd met Cora. His mother would try to line up some date for him, his secretary would sit expecting an invitation if she was single (which was most of them). Now, it was one of his favourites. He can admire his wife in her pretty dresses, and dance with her. There was no expectation of dancing with anyone else, everyone knew the boss only danced with his wife (most of the time). Most of all he just enjoyed being with her without the children to distract them both._

 _He opens the car door for her before walking around to the other side of the vehicle. It would be a shame to have Rosamund sat with them in the back of the car (he and Cora had a reputation of being far too relaxed in the back)._

 _He slips into the back and almost sits on Cora's hand where she's stretched it across the back seat as she's adjusting her dress._

 _"Where's Rosamund?" A loud chuckle comes from the front._

 _"I thought I'd be best in the front. So you to could have your fun in the back without me having to see it."_

 _"I have no idea what you mean." A much drier laugh echoes from his sister's mouth. Cora's hand pushes across the gap a little further and slips onto his thigh. He looks up to spy her lightly dusted pink cheeks and a shy smile._

 _"You do. Without looking I can guess Cora already has her hand on your leg and you're contemplating scooting across to sit in the middle seat." She chuckles softly but Robert only looks at Cora, whose hand has stiffened on his leg, her cheeks a much darker shade of pink. She makes to remove her hand but he holds it steady, sliding across to the middle seat. A spirited laugh comes from the front. "See, I was right."_

 _Cora leans against him as Branson starts the car and they begin to weave through the streets into the centre of the city._

 _"She seems to be getting better." Cora mumbles the words very softly by his ear as an emergency vehicle begins wailing in the background._

 _"Thank god." She makes to move away from him but he tilts her chin up to look at him. She looks slightly wide eyed at first and then her eyes drop down to where their hands are clasped on his leg._

 _They'd been so very restrained since Marmaduke died. Rosamund had lived with them ever since and therefore they'd restricted themselves to sitting together with only minimal touching, at the very most, unless they found themselves alone, of course. In fact, Robert couldn't help admitting they'd learnt to be quite risqué in recent weeks, which was not something they had done before. Even before the children they had always been very traditional and Robert had been quite happy with that. Besides, he'd always respected Cora did not necessarily have the confidence she should do in bed, her first boyfriend had made quite sure of that, and therefore perhaps, he'd been lazy in keeping it rather simple and tasteful._

 _He places his finger over her lips to keep her quiet. They twitch beneath his finger, the round plumpness trying to break into a smile. When he leans forward he sees her eyebrow raise in question and he knows what her doubt is—Rosamund turning and seeing them—but he doesn't care. Rosamund had been right, there were certain things that had to happen in the back of the car on the way to the company ball, and kissing Cora at least once was one of them._

 _He removes his finger only to replace it with his lips. There is no way he is letting her object._

 _He can feel her lipstick sticking to his lips. Worst of all he can taste it, the chemical taste that was not at all liked by his mouth. It's tacky and harsh, determined to try and glue his own lips together and stop them from breathing. It has a waxy quality to it that makes him want to take out a tissue and wipe the whole lot away and start kissing her again. He doesn't do that though, mainly because he can kiss her for longer if he kisses her like this, slowly removing the fake colour from her lips to reveal the addictive taste of Cora. Every time he nibbles her lip some more comes off and a little more of Cora infiltrates his senses and makes him forget about the harsh chemical. Anything would be forgotten when competing with the sweetness of Cora._

 _Aside from her lips, there is another distraction that is making Robert far hotter under the collar than he would like before he as to step out onto a red carpet. Cora's hand drifts higher and higher up his leg in the most alluring slow, smooth circles. Each of her nails making their own unique path, and exciting his skin in a thousand different places. To think he'd been excited about tonight and all it really is, is way too many hours of mingling and chatting aimlessly about work, when he could be much more happily engaged with Cora._

 _"Oh you two! Really! We've got about a minute until we pull up, Cora you need to sort your make up, Robert has kissed it across your face." Rosamund's interruption shatters him from the sweet sensation of Cora. She was right, not only has Branson chosen the quickest route (they must have been very late) but they were almost there and Cora's lipstick was rather messed up._

 _She fishes about in her handbag and pulls out a mirror, the lipstick and some tissues. She holds one of the later up to him._

 _"You better hold still, you've got my lipstick all over your mouth." She chuckles softly, taking the tissue and dampening it with her tongue before smoothing it around his mouth. She finishes that and moves on to sorting herself out. The lipstick is reapplied and the smudges wiped away. She pushes all her things back into her bag and clasps his hand again._

 _"I'm quite excited. I can't wait for-" He cuts her off with a kiss to her forehead._

 _"We're here." He squeezes her hand as the car is filled with the sounds of the small crowd calling for them. It wouldn't be anyone really coming for them, they liked to assess 'Lady Grantham's fashion choices' for their magazines. It makes Robert laugh when he reads the articles and they are all commenting on Cora's use of high street stores for her clothes._

 _Rosamund steps from the car and the cameras immediately start flashing._

 _"I'm pleased she's come. In that Vivienne Westwood piece she might placate these fashion magazines!" They laugh together as the door on Cora's side swings open. It is time to make their appearance._

 _His slips out his side and into the cold night air. He pulls his jacket a little tighter and is, as ever, amazed how well the ladies (with bare legs and arms) cope without complaining._

 _He's around onto the pavement side and slipping his hand into Cora's before he has time to finish the thought. He brings the ringed hand to his lips in the gesture that never failed to make the gossip pages of the newspapers even after so many years. For once in media existence they seemed happy about a happy marriage, rather then spending pages and pages rabbiting on about who had been spotted naked on a beach with whom this week. It pleases him to think that once a year, at least, they filled the pages with news about a celebrity (if he can call himself that!) with a marriage and family that is actually stable._

 _They steadily walk towards the building, pausing every so many feet to smile in alternate directions. Robert answers a couple of question about the business. They leave Rosamund behind as she laughs with some people by the railing and poses in a couple of advert material positions. His father would have chastised her, but Robert wasn't going to do that. Rosamund knew what the people were about and he knows he can trust her to know when to stop talking and posing. She always said it was worth letting them have their fun once in a while and then they'd leave you alone, it was not something she'd never proved wrong._

 _"Mrs Crawley! Lady Grantham!" Robert turns to the sound of a single loud voice from the railing. No doubt some reporter about to ask the make of Cora's dress. As ever, just turning in vaguely the correct direction prompts the shouter to continue. "When is it you're planning to grow your family? After your miscarriage you told the press you were still excited about what the future might bring in chances to extend your family, does that statement still stand?" Her grip on his hand slackens before tightening abruptly as the woman keeps talking. A stickiness seems to exude immediately from her palm as well. He doesn't have to look at her to know she needs him to answer. More children was still a sensitive issue between them. He'd raised it a few months back but she'd shut him down, saying she wasn't ready for that yet. Robert was well aware that Robin still hung over her a little, however much she tried to pretend she wanted to stick to the plan (having a gap between their first two children and the second two, like they had always discussed)._

 _"That statement does still stand. We're just focusing on our two daughters and their progression into school life." Robert couldn't believe Mary was going to start school later this year, and that Edith would start the following year. His little girls really weren't so little any more. The excuse is partly true, he and Cora had discussed wanting to make sure the girls had the best start at school and that they would have the undivided support of them both for at least the first year of schooling, that meant that another baby wasn't on the cards for at least two years._

 _"So Mrs Crawley hasn't experienced any unhappy consequences of her miscarriage?"_

 _"None other than the grief brought on by the loss of our son, no." Cora shifts her balance beside him, a clear indication that she wants to move on. He couldn't agree more, that reporter was verging on breaking Robert's own personal resolve. Somehow reporting a relationship breakdown or trying to guess when a man might propose to his girlfriend was one thing to fill the gossip pages with, but filling them with reports on how a couple might be coping following a miscarriage was really not acceptable. No doubt the woman had wanted to pair it up with Rosamund's party attitude despite Marmaduke's death only being a year or so ago. No doubt the 'Grantham's lack of compassion' was whirling in the woman's head. He makes a glance around him, where is Rosamund? Was she being too excited?_

 _"Looking for me?" She walks up beside him, and the three of them pose for a few shots together. "Don't worry. They might think I'm enjoying myself and the outside of me is, a little. But inside, I've never felt worse. They can write what they like, they have no idea what I'm feeling." She waves a tickling wave and a blows a saucy kiss to the crowd before disappearing inside._

 _"Even after all that she has gone through, she has more confidence than I will ever have." Cora sounds rather upset as they turn to make there way to the top of the steps for the last of the photographs._

 _"You've been through a lot too Cora. Don't ever let anyone think you haven't." He kisses her temple as they turn for that last photograph. He twists his hand out of hers and wraps it around her waist instead. Her soft curls of hair falling to rest on his shoulder. They leave the press outside in the cold and finally step into the warm hall, where yet more people wait and quiet classical music fills the room. There's already people making the most of the buffet and champagne. "Right, suppose it's time to mingle."_

 _"Yes. I guess it is." She tucks her arm into his elbow and they advance towards Gary. Robert wouldn't say he's his favourite client so he always tries to get him out the way early on._

 _They get almost immediately distracted by Rosamund laughing nearby. Robert turns to see her twisting her necklace around and laughing with one of his new, younger, clients. She accepts a dance with the gentleman in question and they tumble onto the dance floor laughing. "Look at Roz." Cora turns to look where Robert gestures._

 _"She truly is enjoying herself at least a little, and like I said earlier, she's fearless in a way I could never be." They watch for a second as the gentleman lowers Rosamund into a very risqué dip and then a spin, her shoulders shaking with laughter. Robert grabs Cora's hand, ignoring Gary's questioning look and blabbering conversation. He pushes Cora by her hip backwards towards the dance floor. He takes the opportunity to press his forehead to hers as he eases her even further backward, one arm snaking around her waist._

 _"You're fearless wth me. Sometimes." She giggles gently and places her arms on his shoulders. As they reach the floor, and sway gently together, she wraps them properly around his neck. He can't help but lean a little closer and kiss her. She's reluctant at first, but then she gives in a little and kisses him softly back. He breaks the kiss not long after that, knowing Cora won't be comfortable dragging it out. Not if the wolf-whistling and clapping was anything to go by. "We have the most important thing, Cora. One thing Roz has lost. Each other."_


	40. Chapter 40

_Robert doesn't bother knocking. Rosamund will have the front door open at this time anyway. And besides, he really needs to sit down before heading back to the hospital._

 _"Daddy!" The double cry, from Mary and Edith as they come racing out of the kitchen ahead of Rosamund, is only cut short by then slamming into his legs._

 _"Auntie Roz said the baby is coming. Has it come daddy?" That's Edith, chirping to his right her mouth covered in tomato ketchup._

 _"First of all what has Auntie Roz given you for dinner Edith, it's all around your mouth." He kneels down and begins wiping it away with his handkerchief._

 _"Chicken nuggets and chips."_

 _"Yes. You know daddy how only Auntie Roz does them, all yummy." Mary finds her moment to chip in, a wide grin on her face. Chicken nuggets was something the girls associated with Rosamund. Every time they stayed she gave them nuggets for dinner, and because it isn't something Cora dished up they would crow about it for a week after the event. Rosamund comes out into the hall and tickles the girls under the chin._

 _"You two go and wash your fingers and lips while I plate up your dad's food." The girls run off up the stairs. Robert leans over and greets his sister._

 _"Thanks for picking them up from school and everything Roz. I know it was such short notice and-"_

 _"Robert. Stop. It's what I'm here for. You and Cora both helped me back along when Duke died. Besides, Cora went into labour what did you expect me to do? Refuse, and let my nieces freeze at the school gates? Now, wayyyyy more importantly how is Cora?"_

 _"Fine. Fine. She came through it. Obviously she's fragile and our little baby girl is quite small but the doctors are sure they'll both be fine."_

 _"Baby girl? No name yet-"_

 _"It's a girl!" They both turn to see Mary peering around the edge of the doorway (she must have been hiding behind it). Robert turns just in time to catch her as she leaps towards him. "Edith quickly! Daddy says it's a girl. We're both big sisters now!" Mary transfers her hug to Edith and the two of them dance around the kitchen. Robert turns back to his sister._

 _"So you told them the baby was coming but not that she had come?"_

 _"I wanted them to hear it from you. Besides, with how worried you sounded when you called I thought...well...I didn't want them to be really happy and then for something terrible to happen. A caesarean at seven and a half months is not exactly a normal birth Robert." She passes him his plate of food which is a large segment of cottage pie and he starts eating. He hadn't even stopped for lunch._

 _"No. It was all rather terrifying. Cora seemed as cool as anything and I was hyperventilating. But they're both okay, that's all that matters." Rosamund begins loading the dishwasher._

 _"What time are visiting hours later?"_

 _"They start at eight. Although the nurse did say I was welcome to come earlier." Rosamund nods along and they fall into quiet. Robert relishes it until Mary and Edith come running back into the room._

 _"When will mummy and the baby be home?"_

 _"Not yet sweetheart. Your mummy has some resting to do and the doctors are checking your little sister."_

 _"Is that because she wasn't meant to come yet?" Mary was often too intelligent for her own good. Robert wouldn't be surprised if she started telling him how a baby is born._

 _"Yes. But she and mummy are both fine. They just need extra care for a few days."_

 _"Days!?" Edith whines as she settles into the chair opposite him. "Will we not see mummy or our sister for days?"_

 _"You're both coming to the hospital on Saturday to see them both."_

 _"Saturday? But that's not for a whole other day. Can we not miss school to see them tomorrow?" Edith leans forward expectantly. Robert shakes his head as he keeps eating._

 _"I don't often agree with Edith, but that doesn't seem fair. She'll be really big before we see her otherwise. And you and mummy have already seen her."_

 _"She won't be really big, Mary. Babies don't grow quite that quickly. Yes, mummy and I have seen her but you two are next to see her." Mary huffs._

 _"Fine. How big is she daddy?" Robert holds out his hands in front of him, pleased to be dodging more questions about visits._

 _"I thought she'd be smaller. Aren't babies meant to be small daddy?" Edith asks with a hint of confusion, her brow creased._

 _"She is small, Edith. Forty-five centimetres, or so, isn't long. You and Mary were both a bit longer but you weren't born early."_

 _"How much longer?"_

 _"Five centimetres or so." Edith nods and then scrambles down from the table._

 _"We should make a card for mummy and our sister Mary, what do you think?"_

 _"Yes. I've got my pens in my bag." They scuttle off together, leaving Robert (thankfully) to his cottage pie and Rosamund's quiet company. He finishes it speedily and checking his watch bids Rosamund a goodbye, he ought to get back to the hospital._

 _He tiptoes into the living room to find Mary and Edith sprawled on the floor making a card together, it wasn't often they did anything without fighting._

 _"Is it time to go home?" Mary looks up expectantly._

 _"No. You're both staying here tonight. Fun sleepover with Auntie Roz."_

 _"Why? It's a school night? We only stay here at the weekends." It was true that they went to Rosamund's for a sleepover one Saturday night every month. It had been his suggestion to give he and Cora a kind of date night. They didn't always go out but it was nice to have time to themselves and it had been important in their decision, eventually, to try again for a baby. Not that any of that had been easy. They'd tried for over a year without success and Robert had found Cora crying over it more than once. Completely distraught that she couldn't give them what they wanted._

 _"Yes, well, it will be easier because I'm going to be back late and you girls need an early night."_

 _"Back late?" Edith queries, the pen she is holding dropping to the floor. "Where are you going?" Robert take a steadying breath. When had he begun to feel intimidated by a five-year-old?_

 _"To see your mum and sister." Mary jumps to her feet and Edith scrambles up behind her._

 _"That's not fair! You'll have seen her twice and me and Edith still won't have." She crosses her hands over her chest. Edith copies. "You told us we have to wait until Saturday and yet you're going back. All the way back, in the car, where there is room for us, without us! She is our sister daddy. When you and mummy are both old it shall be Edith and me that are friends with her not you." Robert stifles a laugh at that one._

 _"Mary, it's not that simple, your mummy is very tired and-"_

 _"We won't be loud. We can be good can't we Edith?"_

 _"Yes. We can daddy. And mummy loves us too. Surely she will want to see us?"_

 _"She will be more ready to see you on Saturday, Edith. And by then she'll be a lot more awake and chatty."_

 _"Mummy is not the point daddy." Mary steps forward and tugs at his hand, stamping one foot a second later. "Our sister is in the hospital. The hospital that you are going back to for hours and hours in a minute but you're going to leave us here. We have waited for the baby too daddy. Not just you and mummy. We helped pick paint colours and toys and clothes with mummy and yet now you want us not to see her. We will go to school tomorrow and say 'mummy had the baby, it's a girl' and everyone will ask if she's big or small and what hair she has and we won't know because our daddy was mean and wouldn't let us come." Any other day he would put his foot down and announce the decision that had previously been made was final. He would remind his girls that while they were little they are to do as they are asked. But he can't, not today. Firstly, because he knows they are right, they should get to see their sister and Cora. Secondly, he doesn't have the strength to argue. He's had too much adrenaline pounding around his body today, making his heart work overtime with only one decent meal having been consumed since breakfast. He was not going to argue now._

 _"Fetch your coats then. Or maybe even go and change out of your uniforms. I'll tell Auntie Roz to collect her things too. I'll meet you both in the hall in ten minutes, if you're not here I go without you." His words bring about an immediate effect as they both squeal, hug him awkwardly around the legs and then run off up the stairs._

 _"I suppose I better get my coat too." Rosamund slides into the hallway behind him and slips up the stairs with a grin on her face. He knew where his girls got their cheek from, and it wasn't Cora._

 _With a whole three minutes to spare the girls appear at the bottom of the stairs dressed in the matching style tops Cora had chosen for them last Christmas (but in different colours) and their cute little denim skirts and wool tights. They are quite a sight to behold. Rosamund appears and Robert ushers the girls to the car while she locks up._

 _The first few minutes of the car ride are silent, aside from the rain outside. The girls giggle a little in the back but Robert says not a word. Wondering how on earth he is going to explain to Cora why he has the whole family in tow. She'd been very tired when he'd left and had murmured before falling asleep about how happy she would be to see him later. She has said she wanted to quietly sit with him and their new little daughter and discuss names. That wasn't going to happen now. Nothing about bringing Mary and Edith was going to make this quiet._

 _"There are a couple of things I need to tell you girls before we get to the hospital. The first, is to touch as little as possible, we don't want you being ill. The second, is to be quiet, there are lots of patients trying to sleep as well as other mummies and babies. The last thing, is about mummy. You mustn't try and hug her around the tummy because you'll hurt her. Let her reach for you and then guide you to places it won't hurt."_

 _A chorus of 'yes daddy' rings from the back of the car but glancing in the rear view mirror he isn't sure they were listening, their heads are close together and they keep giggling._

 _"Robert. It's alright. There's two of us and two of them. They'll behave. Besides you forget they are far more intrigued about what their unnamed baby sister is like. They see Cora every day."_

 _"Yes. And they are very apt at launching themselves at her." Rosamund goes quiet, clearly aware she's hit his nerve._

 _The day had just been rather panicky for him. It was meant to have been any normal Thursday. It was not supposed to have been filled with doctors and nurses shouting words he didn't understand, and Cora barely breathing. There was not meant to have been a Caesarian and a baby. Not today. They'd managed to get through all that but now, bringing the children made him feel like he was tempting the whole day back to the cliff edge._

 _Before he lets the girls out of the car he asks them to recite the three rules he'd given them. They do, perfectly, and he has to concede that he should be panicking far less. His girls are sensible._

 _Walking into the hospital, one of his daughter's holding onto each hand. He briefly wonders how he's going to manage when he has another set of little hands and he smiles. Yes, it had been right to bring the girls to see their new sister. The little sister that is going to bounce along with them._

 _They reach the right ward and he settles Mary and Edith on the chairs outside with Rosamund._

 _"I'm going to go and check mummy is awake and tell her you're here before we all go in and shock her." They protest for a second but then they quieten at Rosamund's reassurance that their dad isn't going to abandon them._

 _Robert can't help pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat. They seek the comfort of the warm and dark as they fidget, what was Cora going to say?_

 _She's awake. He sees that straight away. Their daughter is cradled in her arms and Robert can tell by the way Cora strokes her cheek and looks down on her that she must be having a feed. Cora has a look, impossible to describe that he has never had bestowed on him, and never will, because he has only ever seen it when she looks down into the little face of each of their girls as they have each taken their turn at being suckled. She looks up at his approach._

 _"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten us." Her eyes drop almost instantaneously back to their daughter. Robert sits so he can see his newest daughter's little face. Not that he's forgotten at all what she looks like; the puffy little cheeks and the pale blue eyes. Her tiny fingers, truly the tiniest he'd seen, twisting by her tummy. She was more beautiful than either Edith or Mary had been. It was said that babies born by Caesarian were often prettier but Robert would go as far as to say that this daughter would have been beautiful however she'd been born. There was something so very unique about the shape of her face and the life behind her eyes despite her being premature. Cora reaches out and takes his hand, curling her fingers around his._

 _"She's so beautiful." Robert hears the tears in her voice before the first few fall onto the blanket beneath her. Robert take her hand and lifts it to his mouth. Kissing her knuckles softly._

 _"She is. She gets it from her mum." Cora rolls her eyes at him, her fingers clenching his hand tighter. She calms after a few minutes and Robert is forced to remember he has a communication to make. He decides to put it off for a little longer, Roz will keep the girls distracted, and after all the baby is still feeding and that wasn't for the girls to see and nor was it something, with a premature baby they were going to cut short. "How are you feeling?"_

 _"Fine. Fine. A little sore of course. And I can't sit up more than this. The nurse helped me position the pillows and our little daughter. But really, I'm fine. Considering how things could have been Robert I feel very lucky." He nods, even to him the phraseology of 'a detached placenta' was well understood as definitely not a position to be in. It would have been the end, for Cora too. She never would have been able to cope with losing another baby. "And the doctor says she's already showing good signs of being unharmed. And those injections they gave for her lungs seem to be working. Her breathing is better each time they check. They think she must have been quite well developed anyway because of how well she's taken to the breathing."_

 _"How, um, errr, long is she going to be feeding?" He scratches the side of his head as he leans away from her._

 _"It doesn't still make you edgy? Me breastfeeding!?" Cora laughs. "Oh how I love you Robert."_

 _"No it's not that. Of course not." He can feel his cheeks heating up nonetheless. "It's just, well, the girls are in the corridor and Roz. Mary and Edith protested and well-" He gets cut off by her laughing again._

 _"And you were worried about telling me. Robert, this is their little sister, of course they wanted to come. When I sent you home I was intending you bringing them back otherwise, what was the point in me sending you home? You might as well have stayed." She laughs a little more. Robert just sits struck dumb, Cora was a marvel sometimes. "And to answer your question, she's been feeding for a while so it shan't be long before you can go and get the girls. I would give it no more than three minutes. Which, incidentally, is enough time for you to perform a function you haven't done yet." He knows what she's talking about. The tilt of her head and the expression behind her eyes gives her away. But teasing her, even today, in fact even more so today (the beginning of their next chapter) is not something he is going to pass up._

 _"Oh?"_

 _"Umm, that perfunctory kiss early was very nice but not quite what I was expecting upon giving birth to our little baby. I remember previous occasions, with two previous babies, where you have been much more adventurous." He laughs, and pushes a piece of her hair back behind her ear._

 _Leaning forward, he finds her lips waiting. He notes her having to readjust their daughter a little as he deepens the kiss but it doesn't make him stop. She had asked for this after all. He pulls away when he feels her having to adjust herself again. They say nothing as they part, Robert drops his face back to their little baby and Cora just squeezes his hand tighter._

 _As Cora had predicted, their newest daughter stops feeding soon after, no doubt helped along by the small amount of fidgeting and Robert stands to fetch his other girls (because everyone seemed to be female!) from outside._

 _He gets greeted by a row of frowns. Rosamund because the girls have been difficult to keep sat down for the length of time he'd been gone and the girls, well Mary at least, narrows her gaze and stands, marching right passed him without a word. Edith gets up and follows, although her look of disapproval is not quite so clear. Rosamund gives his arm a squeeze and gestures for him to go first._

 _"It should be just the five of you for a bit. I'll sit to the side for a minute."_

 _Robert is pleased to note that the girls seem to have remembered his words from earlier and are stood very sensibly by Cora, their hands nowhere near her. She adjusts the baby in her arms so that she faces her two sister's and Robert watches as four hands reach forward at once to touch her. Mary goes to tickle her baby sister's tummy and Edith her toes._

 _"What's her name?" Edith lets the question which Robert had been purposely avoiding into the air. Cora's eyes drift up to him before they settle back on Edith._

 _"Your Pa and I haven't decided but we will very soon."_

 _"Can we help choose?" Mary looks between them both expectantly. Robert clears his throat and turns away, only to see Rosamund laughing softly._

 _"Well..." Cora reaches out and takes Mary's hand "your father and I haven't even got choices at the minute. We-"_

 _"Well then, you should let Edith and I give you some, shouldn't they Edith?" Mary jabs her elbow into her sister's side. Edith replies in agreement but Robert can tell she isn't listening at all. Edith's eyes are fixed watching her own hands as they keep fidgeting her little sister's feet. She gently traces one of her hands a little higher towards her tummy where she slowly starts to tickle her. Robert noticed that Cora's attention is also captured by Edith's interest._

 _"You can put your finger under her fingers Edith and she might try and hold it." Cora demonstrates, and Edith's eyes widen as she watches the baby weakly bend her fingers to try and hold Cora's finger. Edith slowly edges her own finger towards the other tiny hand and places it just under the barely visible knuckles of her little sister's fingers. The effect isn't immediate but they do bend and Edith's little mouth opens as the baby turns her head in the direction of this new presence._

 _"Mummy, play attention-" Mary taps her hand on the bed- "what about the name Charlotte or Ruby?"_

 _"Mary sweetheart, your Pa and I will decide a name together." Mary opens her mouth but Cora shakes her head. "And before you argue that you and Edith are her sister's, we decided both your names without consulting anyone else, not even Granny. Now why don't you both go and sit down next to Auntie Roz and your Pa will pass your little sister to you one at a time so you can hold her for a while."_

 _"Hold her?" Edith's eyes widen._

 _"Of course sweetie. Your daddy and Auntie Roz will help you get the right position. But all you really have remember is to support her head." They both walk around the bed and take their seats next to Rosamund. Robert takes his little baby from Cora, who seems to relax considerably without (the even small) weight of their baby. She was clearly in more pain than she was letting on, no surprise there._

 _He turns and moves towards Edith, gently kneeling done in front of her._

 _"Why does Edith get to hold her first?" Mary crosses her arms across her chest and flowers at him. "I am the oldest."_

 _"Yes. But you got to hold Edith when she was born. Whereas Edith hasn't held a baby before." Mary seems to accept this and drops her arms and relaxes her expression. Robert turns his attention to Edith. "Now, Edith. First of all take your left arm and place it kind of around her shoulders, making sure you keep the base of the back of her head on your arm and her ear near your elbow." Robert adjust his baby daughter so he holds her head squarely on the back so there is room for Edith's arm. She gets the right position straight away. "Now if you put your right hand under her and hold her back with your hand." Robert removes his hands and watches as Edith's arms reflexively tighten to take the increased weight._

 _"She's heavier than she looks." Edith murmurs it more to herself than the room. Robert watches with pride all over again as Mary leans over and plays with the little baby's fingers while Edith talks to her, telling her how they are her sisters and they've waited so long to have another sister to play with._

 _Robert moves back over to the bed with Cora, trusting Rosamund's unwavering gaze from her three nieces, to be enough to keep them out of trouble._

 _"We really should think about a name, Cora."_

 _"Well, I was digging through your family history and did you know those two sisters we named Mary and Edith after, the one who ran the estate and the one who had the magazine. Well, they had a third sister. She died though, very young so I wasn't sure. But then, I read she had a daughter, her namesake who became a nurse in the Second World War. And I wondered if maybe it was a good name." She seems to trail off towards the end, presumably because he hasn't said anything. In truth he was lost in the way her face moved with such a range of expressions as she speaks._

 _He's also thinking about something else. Namesakes from the past were all very, well, suitable for his place in the world but maybe this little girl, who has brought with her so much joy deserves a namesake rather more poignant. Poignant enough that it expresses the wonderful woman who makes his life so joyful._

 _"What's the name, Cora?"_

 _"Sybil."_

 _"I like that, very much." He takes her hand as she reaches out to him, unwilling to let her move unnecessarily. And it brings him some comfort, and something to focus his attention on (rather than her face) as he prepares to say what he would like Sybil's middle name to be. "And...how about, umm, Cora for her middle name?"_

 _"Cora?" She laughs softly and shakes her head. "A baby doesn't want my name it's so..." she pauses as she turns back to look at him._

 _"It's beautiful, Cora. And, well, you bring me so much joy it would be nice to think that in the baby that has brought us both so much joy there is a reminder that I would have none of this without you."_

 _"I should hope my being here is reminder enough. But if it means that much..."_

 _"It does Cora. And besides, she is beautiful. Mary and Edith were pretty but Sybil is simply stunning."_

 _"Don't let them hear you say that. We can't have you having favourites." She squeezes his hand and he follows her gaze to the scene unfolding on the other side of the bed. Rosamund is knelt in front of Edith as she lifts little Sybil from her arms in Mary's waiting ones. The transfer complete, all three of them stare wide eyed at little Sybil. Mary murmurs something Robert can't hear, Edith plays with her toes and Rosamund places her finger by her little niece's hand, watching in fascination as she encircles it. Surrounded by so much love, he knows he really is the luckiest man alive._

* * *

She stares out across the sea. The darkness made the churning beneath her so much more pronounced. Not only is it the only noise for miles around but the moonlight shines off the curls of the waves and creates an ever changing sparkle.

She isn't cold, despite the open back to her dress which plummets into a sharp v-shape, the night is warm. Not that this surprises her very much, this was the middle of the Mediterranean in May, after all.

She opens her small clasped bag and pulls the piece of paper from it that she'd kept hidden there since the night she had received it, over three years previously.

She doesn't read it this time. She doesn't read the worried words Peter had scratched into the paper. She doesn't let her mind wander over the terror they had lit within her the first time she had read them. Not just terror though, they had also ignited the forgotten worry of being inadequate. But that was all over now, for good. Robert and Peter had protected her and Simon was now in prison.

She glances down at it once more. Watching how the eternity ring given to her by Robert on that exact same trip shines in the moonlight. A beacon of hope that is so much brighter, so much more significant than the fading past that is whispering from the paper.

She lets her fingers part and watches as the piece of paper catches the wind, fluttering this way and that before finally caressing the top of the ocean and falling flat. The water seeping between the ink and destroying it.

"What was that?" She is first alerted to his presence by the brush of his fingers sweeping across her bare back before he speaks in that low voice by her ear, his lips leaving a half kiss beneath it. She twists in his arms, which makes her shiver as his fingers smooth across a large section of her back before he had time to judge her movements.

"Nothing. Just an old receipt. It's not important."

"Cora?" He looks into her eyes with that very expectant look. The one that is asking her to be honest. She takes a steadying breath and pushes her hands onto his lapels.

"You look very smart this evening." She pulls at the bow tie, straightening it slightly.

"Cora?" He drags out the syllables of her name, still trying to question her over the letter she'd thrown overboard.

"Robert, will you trust me with this, just this once?" She doesn't give him a chance to reply, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his face down to hers. He resists her, pulling himself away and only allowing their foreheads to touch. His eyes watch her unwaveringly.

"It was the letter that Peter gave you, telling you Simon was coming. Wasn't it?" She nods with a sigh, letting her lips graze over his as she tilts her head back up. He seems like he's about to say something as he tries to pull away from her yet again. His hand even moves to her cheek, a gesture of comfort he uses as he says something reassuring.

"Don't say anything. Please, Robert. We've come half way around the world. We're having a wonderful time on this beautiful yacht and it's our last night together before we are joined by the rest of the family. Please, let's enjoy ourselves." He chuckles and accompanied by great annoyance on her part, untangles her arms from around his neck and steps away.

"You better follow me then. Dinner is waiting for us." He tugs at her hand with a boyish smirk, knowing he's managed to annoy her. She rolls her eyes but lets him tug her along. Besides, holding his hand was always quite something.

Rather than leading them inside to the little dining room, or even to the decking at the front of the yacht where they had enjoyed dinner on a couple of occasions, he takes her to the upper deck where a table has been laid for the two of them. There's a small candle burning in the centre. He pulls out the chair for her to sit.

"Did you get the Turkish bloke to lay the table?"

"Cora, don't pretend to not know his name. We both know you do." She blushes stupidly as she places her napkin on her lap.

"Fine, did you make Mr Pamuk lay the table? And before you get all jealous again, he is being paid to drive the yacht not to flirt with me. And even if he did try to flirt with me the look on your face made it plain to everyone that you were displeased."

"Mr Pamuk did lay the table, although I drew the line at him bringing up the food, chef is doing that." Cora laughs.

"Of course. We couldn't have me being more interested in the waiter than my husband now, could we?!" He smirks at over the top of the wine bottle as he uncorks it.

"No, we could not."

"You do know that attractive as he might be, in a movie star way, he's not my type. Besides, who would drive the yacht if I was distracting him with my charms?"

"You really do enjoy winding me up don't you?" She laughs and reaches for his hand across the table as he finishes pouring the wine.

"I do when you're behaving like a baby because I may have taken a double look at Mr Pamuk when we arrived." She curls her fingers around his and lets her thumb rub over his knuckles.

"It isn't your interest that bothers me. I know how to control you." His voice is low and alluring as he leans across the table. "It's his stares that bother me."

"How is it you control me, darling?" She takes his other hand and leans across the table. He smiles and lifts one hand off the table. Turning it over he kisses along her palm to her wrist. He stops and looks up at her. She can't help but smile madly. "Okay, you've made your point. I can't resist you." He drops her hands as chef appears with two very appetising salmon dishes. Cora can't help but roll her eyes, some things never changed and Robert being rather backwards about gestures of affection (other than the few occasions he will just lose his head and kiss her outright) was certainly one of those things.

They tuck into the starter and after a few minutes of silence, and eager munching, conversation moves from the dashing Mr Pamuk back to safer territory, namely the arrival of the rest of the family in the morning.

"Do you think Edward will be okay flying?"

"Cora, don't worry. You heard him on the phone earlier he was full of excitement. Besides, Rosamund and all his sisters are with him."

"I know, but it still seems odd that I won't be witnessing his first time flying." Robert puts his cutlery down and pushes his hand along her wrist by her bracelet.

"It's not his first time. He flew halfway around the world when he was safely stowed in your tummy without anybody realising." She lets her knife go as Robert's comforting swirls forbid the movement of that hand. Lowering her fork she daubs her napkin across her mouth. Robert had always been so good at understanding and yet, this time, it was odd to think he didn't seem to get it.

"It's not the same though is it?"

"Maybe not. But he will delight in telling you all about it when he arrives. And just think, we've got two weeks to watch him negotiate swimming and the various wonders of the yacht. You're going to have more hazards to keep him away from than ever before. Besides, they are flying through the very early morning, he will sleep most of the way." She drops her napkin into her lap and lets her eyes drift up towards him. She shuffles her hand to her own palm falls into his.

"You're right. I'm the one being a baby now."

"You're never a baby Cora. Perhaps occasionally you become a little emotional but I've been told that's common at your age." She narrows her eyes and raises her eyebrows as he smirks over the top of his own napkin.

"I'm not sure my age is allowed to be commented on when you're a good couple of years older than me, Donk." That drops the smirk from his face.

'Donk' was a recent nickname George had taken to using after young James had spent the day around at their house while his parents and sister attended some royal function for the Queen. James had been allowed to not attend and had chosen to spend the day with them. Either way, he'd set up a game of pin the tail on the donkey and Robert had joined in. One thing led to another and George suddenly decided on Donk as a nickname. Robert hated it with a passion, which worked out perfectly for her.

"Cora, please don't."

"Fine, but please no more mention of my age or my hormones or whatever it is you're getting at."

"I would never get at your hormones my dear, they've been my good friends for years." She rolls her eyes but lets the conversation drop.

They both tuck back into their dishes and with much more success they are able to begin their second course (steak Diane) without any more eye-raising or smirking.

"Sybil said her exams had gone well when she called the other day." Cora didn't mind sitting in silence but some conversation was necessary and they'd spent so many hours enjoying themselves in the last two weeks thoughts of anything but sun, swimming, sightseeing and kissing had been far from her mind (and probably his). She knew she had to get her mind to a more rounded collection of feelings and thoughts with the family arriving the following day.

"Umm, she messaged me the same. I don't doubt she's got her grades, probably better. This is Sybil." They laugh. Sybil had always worked not only harder than her sisters, but she had a passion for a selection of subjects (the sciences) that was not common in the family. They had often joked with Isobel that it must be Reginald's genes that had been lost in Robert's father and Robert but had manifested themselves in Sybil. "Cora, have you thought anymore about going back to university? Edward goes to school in just over a year and I know you had been thinking about it before." She swallows her mouthful before lifting her gaze to his. She had thought about it, endlessly (that was before they'd come away, her mind had been filled with other distractions since then).

"I have. And I think I do want to do one of those open university courses. I don't think I could go 'to' university if that makes sense. Edward will still be at home and you never know when the girls need help with childcare. If I do an open course I can fit it around all of that."

"Splendid." Her eyes widen with shock as he smiles brightly and tucks back into his meal, oblivious to her stares.

"Really?"

"Of course. I admit I might not have thought so ten years ago but I know how you love to study and would like to get a job in a field you actually enjoy. I don't want to hold you back. And you deserve a degree. People have taken a lot from you Cora, and I don't just mean Simon. I have in my way, leaving you home with the children and they've all taken your time too. Now, you should fill the next twenty or so years before retirement with something you want."

"Thank you." She takes his hand as he finishes up his dish. Not sure she can manage any other words when there is a pressure behind her eyes threatening to spill over. When she lets go of his hand she transfers a little of her meat to his plate, it was a very large portion and he was clearly hungry.

They finish up the course with both of them picking off her plate and laughing about nothing other than his inability to get things from the plate to his mouth without catastrophe, at least two things have fallen to the table.

"Have you heard from Phyllis since we've been away?"

"Yes. She sent me some pictures of little Charlie. I still can't believe Ethel's had the baby and Phyllis and Joe are now parents." He pours them some more drink while they wait for dessert.

"It was good of Phyllis to let Ethel choose the name."

"I think they talked it all through together but I know Phyllis wanted Ethel to have as much of a part as she and Joe. Ethel has made it clear she still wants contact with Charlie and that's within her rights so there was no point Phyllis getting all funny about it."

"It a brave decision to put a child up for adoption." Robert's eyes harden as he watches her, an expression that Cora knows makes the words not just a simple question. She knows he's silently asking what she would have done in the situation.

"Robert, if you want to know what I would have done, you can just ask. But to answer the unspoken question..." She pauses and fiddles with her dress, even with Robert it is such a sensitive topic. "I would never have got rid of a baby, even if it had been Simon's. That would have left me little choice but the one Ethel chose. I could never have kept it. Not because I wouldn't have always have loved a child but because he or she would have been tainted by him. I would never have been able to get over the fact my first child hadn't been born out of love."

Chef reappears and Cora is thankful, she disliked discussing Simon and the past. She'd lived too many years of her life looking to the past and had learnt that it really wasn't a good idea. She would much rather spend time looking to the future. Both distant and immediate.

Chef lays out the dessert, which is just simply a very fancy collection of ice cream. They eat in silence, Cora savouring the cool dessert and basking in the warm air surrounding them. That was something she hated about England, the permanent state of cold.

She finishes the ice cream before he does, and stands up. He looks at her blankly until she walks towards him, and nudging his leg and placing her arm around his shoulder, perching herself on his knee.

"Cora, I'm trying to eat."

"And I'm distracting you?" She shuffles a little further onto his lap and reaching across the table takes her spoon from her finished ice cream and dips it into his.

"You are rather, yes." She swallows the little spoonful of ice cream she had taken and leans back against him. She lets the hand she looped across his shoulders tickle through the hair by his ear. "Cora." His voice is a low murmur, a warning, and she smiles against his temple.

"Why don't we go downstairs?" He laughs at that which rather takes her aback. She pushes her hand across his shirt. "Robert, don't laugh. I'm serious." He puts his spoon down and removes his napkin from his lap before taking her hand from his chest and kissing her knuckles, muffling yet another chuckle.

"I know you are my dear. But I am serious in deferring your ambitions for the evening for a little while so we can dance on the deck beneath the moon and the stars." He shifts his legs forcing her to stand. "And don't worry, we will make it downstairs eventually." His hand drifts dangerously down her bare back and beneath the sharp v-shaped back that sits just above her underwear. One of his fingers slips just beneath the elastic of her panties. Her breath catches and in the same second he moves his hand and places it rather more properly around her middle. She leans against him as they descend the stairs to the back of the yacht where she had dropped that letter overboard earlier.

There have been some pretty lights wrapped around the railings and a CD player set up in the corner that is already playing a selection of classical pieces. Robert doesn't hesitate in pulling her into his arms and spinning them about. They let the proper hold drop in no time and they're just circling around in the middle of the deck, her head resting on his shoulder. They must spin around like this for at least half an hour, mainly in complete silence.

"Cora?"

"Um?"

"What do you say to going for a swim?" She laughs against his neck. They stop swaying to the music as their clasped hands untangle. She presses her now-free hand over his heart as his joins his other around her waist.

"Not after the other day. As lovely as it was to be so daring the bruises on my spine still hurt." They were, she had noticed when she changed earlier, also turning a dark shade of purple. The tiling on the edge of the swimming pool had not been as kind to her back as she would have liked two days ago but she wasn't about to complain. She and Robert had never been overly daring about being intimate but the other day they'd been lost in each other, or maybe it was the heat and one thing had led to another which had ultimately resulted in the bruises.

He chuckles softly and leaning forward presses his nose to hers. She doesn't give him the chance to sneak away this time, not when this is their last night before the influx of the entire family. When he kisses her back instantly, his mouth eagerly parting her lips, she can't help letting a murmur of satisfaction escape her.

"Robert?" She slowly opens her eyes to look into his, her arms still around his neck and her faces merely centimetres from his.

"Umm?"

"I love you." He brushes a hand across her cheek before gently kissing her again.

"I love you too. Now I believe you were fussing about retiring downstairs earlier, is that still acceptable?" She rolls her eyes and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck they sink into another heated kiss. With much laughing, and a couple of very near failures, he lifts her into his arms and heads for the stairs. Maybe she isn't his bride anymore but they had built something together. Something very special.

* * *

She turns over to find the bed empty and she has a brief flashback of those two weeks of honeymoon where she'd often wake to an empty bed only to hear Robert climbing the stairs of the cottage with a tray of breakfast.

As she stands she can't help but smile a little at the state of the bedroom. Robert hadn't even attempted to rearrange the bedding or fold the clothes they'd strewn on the floor in their haste last night. This wasn't like him, usually he would at least take time to fold her dress. She walks across the room gently folding things onto the chair, with everyone arriving today she needed to have the room clear and respectable. With it being such a small little cabin she's finished in no time.

She puts on a bikini and a sundress as she decides she ought to go and find Robert, if only to find out if he'd eaten breakfast without her. With another couple of hours before the others were due to arrive she thought some sunbathing on the deck might be nice.

She finds him at the table they'd eaten at last night.

"Morning." He stands to pull her chair out for her and she smiles, he had always been such a gentleman. "How did you sleep?"

"Very well, thank you, darling."

"Good because it's not long until the others arrive and they are going to be excessively excited."

"You make them all sound like five-year-olds." Robert laughs softly before continuing with breakfast.

The two hours pass quickly, the two of them relaxing on the deck and taking the occasional swim. They read to each other and take some silly pictures to have printed for their bedroom at home.

Cora sits up suddenly and walks to the railing when she hears a voice she recognises. Her brow furrows into a frown as she walks. She must be imagining it, Sophie and Edward hadn't been invited on this trip, they were busy anyway.

She notes that Robert is completely oblivious to it all, or at least she thinks he is. Reaching the railing and peering over she immediately gasps and turns back to Robert who is sat with a very wide grin stretched across his face. James spots her first.

"Hello Aunt Cora." Despite the fact Robert and Cora were not related to the family, Edward and Sophie had asked before the children were born if they could know them as Aunt and Uncle and that was how it had always been.

"Hello James." The others wave but disappear from view as Pamuk helps them all onto the yacht and takes their luggage from their driver. Cora turns to Robert.

"I guess this has something to do with you?" He stands from his sun lounger and wraps his arms around her, gently kissing her forehead.

"You sound as though you're accusing me. But you're right. They mean a lot to us and to be honest Edward loved the idea. They knew it wouldn't be expected for them to take such a trip so press wouldn't be an issue and well, we are at sea half the time and they don't have to get off the yacht if they don't want to."

"But Robert the press-"

"Won't get onboard. It's been fitted out to Royal standards and Pamuk is a trained agent and passed all the exams required by Her Majesty. Chef and all the other staff onboard are likewise trained." She shakes her head from side to side in disbelief.

"You sorted all this without me."

"Sophie and Edward are like family. I wanted them to have a share of this and a safe, quiet retreat for them is good."

"You truly are wonderful." She wraps her own arms tightly around his waist and stands on her tiptoes to kiss him. He kisses her back rather more passionately than she had been expecting. Their newly arrived guests seem to think the same.

"Ewwww, Auntie Cora, Uncle Robert that is disgusting." They break apart to see James with his hands over his face. Louise's cheeks are tinged a shade of pink and their parents stand behind them with raised eyebrows. The awkwardness is easily broken by Edward who steps forward to greet Robert. He whispers something to him that Cora can't hear but rom the look on Robert's face was probably inappropriate. Her arm is taken up by Sophie who is rattling off questions about the islands they've seen and whether the weather has been good. James and Louise take time admiring the deck, the former immediately tugging at Sophie and asking to swim. Cora asks about their flight and Sophie pulls the usual face.

"I hate flying. Well, you know..." Cora did know, because royals often flew separately (and Sophie always flew separately to Edward for the sake of the children if anything did happen). The problem was, Sophie wasn't a happy flyer anyway, so to be separated from Edward only made things worse.

James begins pestering so much about swimming that Sophie is forced to comply and Robert offers to show them to their cabin. He explains that all the children were going to share and have a kind of camp out. Sybil was going to be in charge of them all. Louise opts to stay on the deck and Cora is pleased to have time to talk with her. Specifically to ask out how she had found joining in with some of the royal events this year and interacting with the public.

"I was easier than I thought. I assumed it was going to be terrifying but of course I'd forgotten they'd all want to speak to me. And I remembered what you and Mum always say about spreading a little kindness only taking a smile." Cora smiles, Louise was awfully sweet.

"Well, I know Robert and I were very proud of you. We saw all the pictures and were very happy for you. I'm sure both your mum and dad were very happy too."

"Yes. They were."

"And school, how's that going? Any grand plans for the future?"

"Well, mum has made it clear she wants us to have jobs and I have to agree with her. James and I will become so insignificant once Cousin William is King. I'm thinking about something to do with optometry." Cora nods slowly, the words didn't surprise her. Louise had been born with esotropia, a condition that made her look cross eyed. She'd had surgery to correct her vision now, but Cora knew it played heavily on her mind and had always guessed that like her mother (who backed hundreds of different optical charities) Louise would want to give back to that portion of society.

"Just be an optician or do you want to do something more specific?"

"I'm not sure yet. We shall see." She walks over to lean over the railing. Cora joins her and is pleased to see a stream of waving from the other end of the pier. Three little children race along in front and Cora feels her heart quicken as the little blonde curls of Edward's bounce in the wind. Sybil is close at their heels making sure they don't wander too near the edge. Louise notices them and starts waving; Cora waves along with her.

Robert appears back on the deck, Sophie and Edward close behind him just as the group from the pier bustle around the gangway leading onboard. Edward, George and Marigold are lifted into various sets of arms and Pamuk begins taking the luggage from Rosamund, Bertie and Mary.

James comes racing across the decking in his swimming shorts and dives straight into the pool.

Robert comes to stand by her side, wrapping an arm deftly around her waist.

"Thank you for planning all this darling." He kisses her temple.

"No problem my dear. But now, we have three young toddlers to keep safe." His words are timed exactly as three little figures appear from the deck below, the littlest one with blonde curls bouncing on his head runs straight for her legs.

"Mummy!" Edward's fingers tug at the back of her knees and his nose rubs between them. She gently untangles him so she can lift him onto her hip. He wraps his arms around her neck and generously kisses her cheek. When he's finished hugging her so hard he finally mets her gaze. "I have missed you mummy."

"I've missed you too Edward. Lots and lots." For the first time in a long time Edward doesn't try and wriggle out of her grasp. He seems more than content to rest on her hip. They chat away about how Edward had enjoyed flying and what he thinks of the yacht, the food he'd had staying with Rosamund. He asks about living on the boat and they walk over to watch James swimming in the pool.

"Can I do that?"

"You want to swim Edward?"

"Yes mummy. Can I do it?"

"Of course. Daddy and I will teach you." Edward kisses her cheek again and they move back towards the others.

Bertie and Edith are stood together with Marigold, looking out across the view. Mary is seemingly in animated conversation with Pamuk as they serve some drinks—in fact it looks like she might be blushing. Louise and Sybil are deep in conversation with Rosamund. Sophie and 'big' Edward are sat together at the table under the small canopy. She'd never seen them sit so close in a 'public' place. When they came around for dinner they never even walked out holding hands; everything between them was always very proper. They were more relaxed in the house of course, but Cora had never seen them so close. Edward shifts his chair around the table and holds her hand. Cora is transfixed as he leans forward and kisses her, the last time she'd seen them kiss was very briefly at their wedding reception (they hadn't kissed for the public, even at the wedding).

Robert had been looking in the same direction and when they both turn away at the same moment their eyes lock and they smile madly. Edward picks that moment to wiggle about.

"I want to get down mummy." Sybil immediately takes his hand and they take a walk around the deck together.

Cora takes the drink Robert offers her and they both take a slightly curious look back to Edward and Sophie. They are sitting quietly, whispering to each other.

"It's nice to see them relaxed. You've done a wonderful thing inviting them, Robert."

"So you've told me five times! I didn't really do it for them though. I did it for you." She takes his hand and lets him walk her down the steps to the lower deck. The others follow slowly behind.

Cora feels the gentle rumble of the yacht starting beneath them, Pamuk has more accurate timings than the Queen. They walk right up to the railing and Cora feels the beginning of the sea breeze whipping up around them.

"Did you really do it for me?"

"Cora, of course I did. Last night we had a beautiful dinner, we danced under the stars, and we made love." He murmurs the last part by her ear. "But it's about more than that. When we married, everyone thought you were the lucky one, marrying an Earl with a castle and a big business. But I knew better, I was the lucky one. I had managed to secure the heart of the most wonderful woman. And, of course, most importantly, with such a beautiful wife nobody pays me any attention any more!" Cora keeps her eyes fixed on the ground, the water stinging behind them. She can't think of anything to say so she just just takes his hand and squeezes gently before leaning against him as she chuckles very softly at his joke. He kisses the top of hair.

Cora takes the moment to look back to Corfu Town, to watch the town disappearing into insignificance. Turning back around she looks out towards the direction they are heading. The horizon stretches before them, the sea churning beneath their feet and then stretching into complete flatness. That was where they were heading; the future, on a beautiful White Lady of their own - she would have to call and thank Harold. She wasn't heading there alone, she had the girls, Sophie, Phyllis and the charity. The prospect of doing a university course and the joys of watching the grandchildren grow. Sybil was about to conquer the world of nursing and Edward was growing so fast. And all of that she had because of Robert. He's buried her past, made her present and they were about to create their future together. She honestly couldn't ask for anything more.

* * *

AN: So, that's the end everyone. I hope it was acceptable. I must say I struggled with it quite a lot. SO many of you asked about whether we would get to hear about Cora being pregnant with Sybil, so I thought, why not have her birth instead. I hope you all liked that. The part on the yacht was what took me the time though, I like endings to fell proper, with as few unanswered questions as possible, I do hope I managed that.

Next, I would like to thank the hundreds of you that have viewed this story and the scores of you that have reviewed, including all the guests. The number of reviews reached over 500 the other day (and 33 for the last chapter, which was a personal record for me) and that really pushed me into finishing this last chapter for you all. You're all the most deserving audience there is, particularly putting up with all these breaks!

Lastly, I know many of you like to hear where my writing is taking me next. I have started writing another story. It is a pre-canon Cobert story where they meet, for the first time, in Paris rather than London. I want to have almost all of it written before I start posting, because I hate leaving people with long breaks between updates. Good thing is, in a few weeks I finish for university for the year and I will have all of the summer to write. The plan is to start posting in October-November time. I know that's a long time but I think it is better in the long run. In the meantime I am still going to be reading and reviewing, so please all of you keep writing. Cobert deserve that, if nothing else. God bless you all.


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